


this is us colliding.

by porcelainsimplicity



Series: the cajun and the southern belle (aka all my remy/marie fics) [10]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Boys Kissing, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Getting Together, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Novel, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 127,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity
Summary: There was talk about who the band playing the mystery gig was, and the consensus from the people around her was that it was the indie band The Queen's Speech, who were rising up the charts with a single from their latest self-released album.  Marie just smiled and sipped at her drink when someone asked her opinion on it, knowing full well that it wasn't The Queen's Speech who was about to take the stage, but The Mutants.or: Remy and Marie reconnect after nearly a decade apart, and while a lot has changed, some things haven't.  Plus John and Bobby are something, but no one really knows what, even them.  These are the adventures of the Mutants.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so I've literally tried writing this story 16847312354694158675646145 times in at least three different fandoms, but I'm coming back to this particular iteration of it because I think I have actually figured out how to finish it properly within the constraints of the characters available here. I really do love this story, no matter how frustrating writing this has been at times, and I am determined to finish it this time. I've been determined to finish a lot of half-written stories recently, to be honest, and it's about time this one was finished too. 
> 
> They're all from New York in this, except Bobby's still from Boston, but that doesn't really matter at all. I made up Remy's mother's name. Marie has a couple of referenced made up brothers (and her last name comes from the novelization of the first X-Men film if anyone is wondering). John's got a referenced made up sister. There's a bunch of what I think are pretty bad made up song lyrics. I don't know how Doug Ramsey is in the comics, but I needed him to be not nice here. Nothing in this is all sunshine and roses and fluff; there is some deeper, more serious stuff going on with a few of the characters. If you're wondering where a character is, at least a reference is probably coming soon.
> 
> I hope you like it. I'd love it if you'd let me know if you do. In any case, thanks for reading!

For just a moment, Marie D'Ancanto took a look at the club she was about to set foot in and thought it beneath her stature. Then she quickly reminded herself that she was trying not to be so goddamn posh now that she'd been given a second chance at life, and she smiled at the bouncer as she paid the cover charge and walked inside. The club was dark and smoky, packed full of several hundred people who were standing around tables and starting to crowd the small stage at the back. Marie looked around for a moment before heading towards the bar, working her way in between a few people until she could order a whiskey. Drink in hand, she forced her way through the crowd until she was right in front of the stage, right in front of the lead singer's microphone.

There was talk about who the band playing the mystery gig was, and the consensus from the people around her was that it was the indie band The Queen's Speech, who were rising up the charts with a single from their latest self-released album. Marie just smiled and sipped at her drink when someone asked her opinion on it, knowing full well that it wasn't The Queen's Speech who were about to take the stage, but The Mutants.

The Mutants were only the biggest band in America at the present time, and they were playing this secret gig at this underground New York City club as a rehearsal for their huge stadium tour that started next week. Marie only knew that The Mutants were playing this gig because she'd been tipped off by the mother of The Mutants' lead singer Remy LeBeau. She'd run into Annabella a couple of days earlier, and after the initial shock of seeing her best friend's mother, she told Annabella enough about what she'd been through to make her realize that Marie needed her best friend. Marie had known Remy since she was six, and despite the fact that they'd lost contact over the course of the past decade, she still considered Remy her best friend.

Annabella had assured her that the quickest way to get to Remy was to go to this secret gig, make sure she was right in front of the stage, and to make sure that Remy saw her in between songs. Marie had no idea if Annabella had tipped Remy off to the fact that she would be there, but she figured if she had, Annabella would have left out the fact that it was her who was waiting in the front row. She knew Annabella wanted Marie to genuinely surprise Remy, which was why she had concocted this ridiculous way of getting back in touch with him in the first place.

The lights of the club suddenly dimmed even more than they already were, and the crowd around Marie started to cheer loudly. Marie polished off the rest of her drink and set the empty glass down on the stage, smiling to herself. It was going to be good to see Remy again.

Backstage, The Mutants were gathered in their pre-concert huddle, listening to their manager Erik Lehnsherr give them a motivational speech. This was the only gig of the tour that Erik was going to be at because of commitments to other bands, but The Mutants felt safe in the hands of Hank McCoy, their road manager, and Darwin, their assistant. When Erik had finished his speech, he ducked out of the huddle, and then it was just the band. Remy LeBeau looked around at the group he'd met at Columbia University, still somewhat in awe of the fact that they had made it to this point in their career, about to embark on a stadium tour of some of America's biggest cities. 

John Allerdyce, the bass guitarist, was to his left, and he grabbed Remy by the scruff of the neck. "Ready to sing the fuck out of these new songs, Remy?"

"You know it, John!" Remy yelled back, joining in when the rest of the band started jumping up and down. "Let's fucking do this!"

Bobby Drake, the lead guitarist and main songwriter, was the first to break the huddle, grabbing his guitar and striding onto the stage. At the sounds of the crowd losing their minds, Sean Cassidy, Kitty Pryde, Scott Summers, and Peter Maximoff followed Bobby onto the stage, John joining them a few seconds later. Remy held back for a minute, like he always did, then sprinted out onto the stage just as the opening notes to _Just Keep Me Where the Light Is_ sprang to life off Bobby's guitar.

_You know how you feel about me_  
_I know how I feel about you_  
_But we're too stubborn to tell each other the truth_  
_You know what you want from me_  
_I know what I want from you_  
_But we're too closed off to tell each other the truth_  
_Are we going to do this dance forever?_  
_Or are we going to find our way together?_  
_Just keep me where the light is_  
_You don't have to leave me shut in the dark_  
_Just keep me where the light is_  
_Let me show you how amazing it could be_  
_Just keep me where the light is_

It was at that moment, just at the end of the first chorus, that Remy looked down at the fans right in front of the stage and locked eyes with one Marie D'Ancanto, someone he had convinced himself he'd never see again. He spent so long staring at her that John had to kick him to get him to start singing again, and then he did his best to keep from looking at her for the rest of the concert.

Marie was there. Just the thought was enough to have him grinning.

**********

Marie made her way back to the bar after the show came to an end, ordering another whiskey. She took a long sip from it and then jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder, nearly spilling the drink down the front of her dress.

"I'm so sorry to startle you, miss," came a voice, and she turned around to see a man standing behind her, a backstage pass dangling from her hand. "The band has requested that I give you this. But only if you want it."

Marie smiled and took the pass from him. "Thank you very much," she said, putting it around her neck. "Are there drinks backstage or do I need to get another out here?"

"What are you having?"

"Whiskey. Straight."

The man smiled. "Oh, we've got plenty of that backstage. Follow me."

Marie followed him through the crowd, eventually ending up at a door behind the small stage. The man opened it and suddenly Remy appeared in the doorway, that brilliant grin of his on his face. "Darwin, did she take it?"

"Ask her yourself," Darwin said, walking around Remy and letting Marie into his view.

Remy stepped down from the elevated doorway and looked at her for the first time in forever. "Marie D'Ancanto."

"Remy LeBeau," Marie replied, stepping towards him. "God, you looked incredible up there."

"You look incredible right here!" Remy exclaimed, pulling Marie into a huge hug. "Christ, Marie, how long has it been?"

"Almost ten years, I think," she said, breaking the embrace. "A long time, at any rate."

Remy noticed that some of the people near the stage door were staring at them, and he took Marie by the hand, leading her up the step and through the door. "Come on, let's continue this in private."

Marie followed along behind Remy as he walked them through a small hallway, stopping at a door with a cheesy gold star painted on the front of it. "The band's a little wired just so you know," Remy said, then opened the door and led Marie in.

The dressing room was chaos in motion. Girls and a few guys were everywhere, the band was scattered around the room, and most of them were jumping up and down, yelling back and forth about the show. Marie took one look at it all and started to laugh. "I cannot believe you're a fucking rock star," she yelled into Remy's ear. "You, who used to be so afraid to sing in the choir that you just mouthed the words! A fucking rock star!"

"A lot has changed, Marie. It's been a long time!" Remy yelled back. "Come on, let's get something to drink!"

Marie let Remy lead her to the back of the room, where the man that had given her the backstage pass was standing next to a table filled with bottles of alcohol. "Whiskey, right miss?"

"Yes, and call me Marie, please."

"Well, Marie, you can call me Darwin," the man said, handing her a glass.

"Then thank you, Darwin," Marie said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Darwin is our assistant extraordinaire," Remy said. "He doubles as a bartender."

The door to the room came smashing open and a man in a sharp looking suit came walking in, throwing his arms open wide. "You motherfucking killed it out there!"

"That's Erik, our manager," Remy said in Marie's ear. "Excuse me for a minute."

Remy pushed his way through the room until he was throwing himself into Erik's arms. Marie turned back to the table and saw Darwin looking at her curiously. "What?"

"Sorry," Darwin said. "I just kind of can't believe that you're real."

"Excuse me?"

"Remy's talked about his magical best friend Marie for so long, but since you've never been around, the band always teases him about making you up."

Marie laughed. "Oh, he definitely didn't make me up. Though when we were kids, I used to think I made him up sometimes. He's too good to be true."

"I don't know about that," Darwin said, laughing before turning his head towards the front of the room when Erik called out his name. "Excuse me."

Marie stayed at the back of the room, sipping at her drink, watching as the band collapsed onto various chairs. Two women with long blonde hair immediately sat down on Remy's lap, and Marie felt her lips turn into a frown as she watched Remy's arms slid around their waists. She didn't know why she was surprised; Remy was the lead singer of one of the hottest bands in the world. Of course, he was going to have groupies, and as a single man, of course, he was going to take advantage of that. Maybe it was because the Remy in her head was still the shy, unassuming guy who'd left for Columbia, and the two couldn't be further apart. Remy had been right. A lot had changed.

Remy didn't need her anymore.

Marie felt an ache in her chest as she downed the rest of her drink, turning back to the table and looking for the bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a glass and knocked it back as fast as she could. She didn't know how she as going to get out of the room without Remy seeing her, but she was going to find a way. And then she was going to go back to her apartment, and then she was going to get the bottle of vodka out of the freezer, and then she was going to drink her best friend away.

She poured herself another glass of whiskey and knocked it back, only to notice someone was now standing to her left, surveying the bottles on the table. She looked over at him just as he was looking over at her, and she smiled. "Hello."

"I don't think we've been introduced," the man said, slyly holding out a hand. "John Allerdyce."

"Marie D'Ancanto," she responded, shaking his hand as realization dawned on his face.

"Not Remy's Marie."

"I would hardly call myself Remy's Marie when I haven't seen him in like a decade," Marie said, pouring herself another glass.

Before she knew what was happening, John had swung her around, grabbed her free hand, and raised it into the air. "Look, everyone! It's Remy's magical Marie!"

Marie suddenly felt the eyes of everyone in the room on her, and she felt uncomfortable standing there. "Hello," she offered, bringing her drink up to her lips so she didn't have to say anything else.

"Wait a fucking minute," came a voice from the front of the room. "When the fuck did Remy ever mention that his friend was a stunningly beautiful woman? I always thought Marie was a guy!"

"Bobby, I think you're really drunk if you think someone with the name Marie is a man," Remy yelled out, pushing the blondes off his lap and walking back to her, sliding his arms around her waist. "And she's mine, so don't get any ideas!"

The rest of the room laughed and started talking again, and John wandered off into the crowd, but Remy stayed there with Marie, his arms still wrapped around her waist. "I can't believe you're really here," Remy said softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of Marie's long hair behind her ear. "It's been so long."

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Marie asked. "Or is this an all-night party?"

"It's a late night party. The club will kick us out at some point," Remy said, smiling at her. "But we can go back to my place and talk if you want."

"I'd like that."

Remy took the glass from Marie's hands and set it on the table, then wrapped Marie's right hand up with his left and started leading her towards the door. "I'll see you losers at rehearsal tomorrow!"

The whole band oohed as Remy and Marie approached the door, and Remy spun around and flipped them off. "You fuckers are disgusting."

Marie laughed as Remy led them out of the room and slammed the door behind him. "I really want to meet the rest of the band sometime."

"Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that," Remy said, leading her down the hallway and out of the club into the alley in the back. "We can call for a taxi or we can just walk. It's only a few blocks from here."

Marie glanced down at the silver stilettos she was wearing before looking up at Remy and smiling. "Walk."

"You sure?" Remy asked, glancing down at her shoes.

"Yes," Marie said. "Which direction?"

Remy grinned at her. "This way, mon cherie."

**********

"Do you remember how fucking excited I was to go to Columbia?" Remy asked, sloppily pouring them both another drink. "I got there and then I couldn't give a fuck about going to class once I met the guys and I joined the band. Thank fuck it took off 'cause I don't know what on earth I'd be doing right now otherwise."

"Yes, yes," Marie said, reaching for her glass of whiskey and knocking it back. "Do you remember how mad I was that you got to go to Columbia but I had to go to Georgetown to make my father happy? God, I did so much shit to keep that lousy son of a bitch happy. Never gave a thought to what would make me happy."

Remy stared at her for a moment, then reached out and grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly. "We were going to visit each other."

"We never did," Marie murmured.

"I can't believe we let ourselves lose contact with each other."

"It's our own fault," Marie pointed out. "You always knew how to get a hold of me, and once I saw the band, I knew how to get a hold of you. But by then I was engaged and it just didn't feel right to."

Remy knocked back his drink. "So when's the big wedding happening, Mrs. Douglas Ramsey?"

"Ah, so you know about that. No," Marie stressed, holding up her ringless hand. "No, no, no. Formerly engaged to Doug Ramsey. Who is a total dick, by the way. Done yet again to make my son of a bitch father happy. Oh, we were horrible for each other. The fights were epic. I wasted almost a decade of my life on him."

Remy set his glass down and pulled Marie out of her chair and into his arms. "Fuck, I should have been there for you."

"No, we're not going down that road. We drifted apart and we have to accept that. Now, I'm forcing us back together. I had my whole life changed by what I've just been through, and I don't mean the engagement, and I'm going back to the stuff that made me happiest. And what always made me happiest was being around you."

Remy pulled back and looked at her, confused. "What the fuck are you talking about? What life-changing experience have you had?"

"I just got done with Royal Marsden about six months ago," Marie said, looking up at him. "You know, the specialist cancer hospital in London? Father insisted on the best treatment for his baby girl."

The worry in Remy's eyes grew with every word Marie said. "Cancer? Oh, Marie."

"I'm fine now, clean bill of health and all. And I don't want to go into details. I want to just forget that and move on. I just want to be with my best friend the way I used to be."

Remy hugged Marie close again. "I never want to let you out of my sight again."

"Well, you're going to have to. I have to go home and pack."

"Pack?" Remy let go of her and reached for the bottle, topping off both of their glasses.

Marie just smiled as she took her glass back from him. "Yeah, I've decided to follow this band around, try to talk my way backstage every night. Basically, say fuck off to my father and all of his ideas about what his baby girl should be doing for a while."

Remy looked at her with a huge grin. "Might the lead singer of that band be a man who until about nine years ago couldn't sing in a room with the lights on?"

"Oh Christ, I totally remember how you'd never sing for me unless you turned off the lights first. I can't believe I'd forgotten that." Marie burst out laughing at the memory. "Quite possibly."

"You're going to follow us around on tour?" Remy grinned at her over his glass. "I shall arrange for all the details and a permanent backstage pass for you then."

"That would be much appreciated, Mr. LeBeau," Marie said, knocking back her drink before picking up her phone to check the time. "It's almost three a.m. so I should really get going."

"You're going nowhere after all the alcohol you've consumed, Miss D'Ancanto," Remy said, stealing her handbag from her hands and tossing it onto the table behind them. "You can stay here tonight."

"Don't assume that because I'm going to follow your band around that means that I'm going to act like one of your groupies," Marie said sternly. "Because I am not sleeping with you, LeBeau."

"I would never think of besmirching your honor like that, Marie."

"You're not drunk enough yet," Marie said, reaching for the bottle. "You can still think of words like besmirching."

Remy let her take his glass and top it off, taking a long sip once he had it back. "I really don't think you should leave."

"You don't get to make that decision," Marie said, setting the bottle back down and reaching for her handbag again. "I really am going to go home, Remy. I will, however, allow you to call a taxi for me."

Remy polished off his drink and stumbled towards the house phone. "You are so stubborn. I have a guest room, you know."

"And I'm sure I will be acquainted with it soon enough, but not tonight."

"I'll call for a taxi," Remy said, picking up the phone. "But you've got to give me your phone number or something, Marie. Otherwise, I'll lose you again."

Marie laughed and grabbed Remy's phone off the table. "Get me a taxi and I'll give you my number."

"Easier than one of the groupies," Remy muttered to himself as he started to dial.

"I heard that!"

**********

"So how was she?" was the question that Remy faced the moment he walked into the rehearsal studio the following afternoon. Bobby looked far too smug, and Remy had the urge to go punch the look right off his face.

"I did not fuck her," Remy said seriously, glaring at Bobby. "Marie is a friend. That is all."

"There's no way I'm going to believe that, Remy," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Anyone can tell from the way you've always talked about her that you're head over heels in love with her."

"This is coming from a man who last night told me he thought that I'd been talking about another man this whole time, right?" Remy asked as he sat down on the stool behind the microphone that was meant for him. "I mean, fucking hell, Bobby."

"I said that?"

"Yes, you did," John said, slapping Remy up the side of his head. "There's nothing wrong with two guys being together and you know that. And Bobby is totally right. You're completely in love with her."

"Did I say there was something wrong with two guys being together?" Remy responded, looking between Bobby and John. "You think I'd be okay with whatever the fuck you two are doing with each other if I thought that?"

John and Bobby stared at each other for a moment before John broke their gaze. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Sure there's not," Kitty chimed in. "That's why you're sharing a room on the tour while the rest of us get singles."

Bobby suddenly got very interested in tuning his guitar, and John spun around to glare at her. "Fuck off, Kitty."

"Alright, that's enough, I think," Scott said from behind the drum kit. "Can we get to rehearsing, please? I've got to go with Jean to a premiere tonight and she will kill me if I'm not home in time."

"You are so whipped," Sean said, ducking when Scott threw a drumstick at him. "What? You can't deny it!"

"I'm not whipped, I'm married," Scott said, standing up and walking over to get his drumstick. "You know, the thing you're thinking of doing with Moira?"

The rest of the band all looked over at Sean in surprise. "You're thinking about marrying Moira?" Remy finally said, breaking the silence. "Seriously?"

"I know, I know, everybody thinks she's cheating on me with the bassist from Idiot School but she's not," Sean protested. "She's sworn it to me."

"What did she swear it on, her easily opened legs?" Peter asked, laughing as Sean tried to hit him from where he was sitting. "Sean, come on man, you know she's opening them for whoever the fuck wants a piece of her. You can't want to marry that."

"She is not," Sean seethed. "Now can we start rehearsing before I kill all of you?"

Bobby started playing the opening notes to _Total Nonsense_ before anyone could say anything else, and soon the whole band was deep into rehearsal, bickering about changes to the setlist instead of slinging insults back and forth. Remy was in the middle of singing _Wanna Dance Alone_ when the door to the space opened and Erik and Darwin walked in. The band played till the end of the song and then stopped, looking over at them.

"What happened to uninterrupted rehearsal time?" John mumbled.

"You can get back to rehearsing in a minute," Erik said, walking over to them. "I just want to lay down a few guidelines for the tour. Think of them as rules to live by while on the road."

The entire band groaned. "Not again," Kitty declared. "Last time you did this we didn't have any fun."

"You can have all the fun you want," Erik said. "I've only got two guidelines."

"What are they?" Sean asked, sighing heavily.

"First, absolutely no one can find out about whatever the fuck is going on between John and Bobby."

"There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Bobby," John yelled out, glancing over at Bobby only to have Bobby duck his head and keep from meeting his gaze.

"Sure there's not," Erik said. "Second rule. Remy, don't get photographed with your lady friend."

"Remy has a lady friend?" Scott asked. "Who is this lady friend?"

"Marie is going on tour with us," Remy said, spinning around to look at the band. "And none of you are going to protest. She needs me right now and so she's going to have me."

"And you still claim that you didn't fuck her last night?" Bobby asked, laughing. "Remy, it's us. You can tell us."

"No," Remy gritted out. "I did not fuck her last night. We drank and talked till three a.m. and then I rang for a taxi for her because she insisted on going home instead of staying in my guest room. And that's all that happened."

John started to say something but was cut off by Peter. "I believe him. You know how Remy is after he has a conquest. He comes in hungover as fuck and bragging about it. If he says he didn't fuck her, then he didn't fuck her."

"I don't really care if he did or he didn't," Erik said, drawing their attention back to him. "No photographs with the lady friend."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Remy said, bringing a smile to Erik's face.

"Excellent. And with that, I bid you all a fond farewell. I shall see you in four months, unless you fuck up before that, in which case I will have to rearrange my entire schedule to fly out and lecture you. Make sure that doesn't happen."

Erik turned and walked out of the room, leaving Darwin standing there. "What do you want, Darwin? Don't tell me you've got fucking guidelines too," John groaned.

"Storm wants me to pass along a message," Darwin said, referencing the band's producer. "She wants an album and a half of new material written while you're on tour so you can go straight back into the studio when you get back."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Bobby burst out. "Erik promised us a fucking break before we had to start recording again."

"This is coming straight from the label, Storm said," Darwin responded. "Logan wants a fourth album out as soon as possible."

"We just released _Wonderful At Night_ a month ago!" Scott called out. "Jean and I have plans for after this tour that do not involve me spending all my time in a fucking recording studio!"

Darwin held up his hands in an attempt to calm everyone down. "Don't fucking shoot the messenger. I'll get Erik on it, see if he can change Logan's mind. If not, well, you're contractually obligated. You signed a ten album deal."

"I am not spending all my free time on this fucking tour writing new music," Bobby declared. "So Storm and Logan can fuck off!"

"I will relay the message," Darwin said, walking towards the door. "Just in a much nicer way than that."

"This fucking label," Bobby fumed as the door shut. "I'm starting to think it's the worst thing that's ever happened to this band."

"Are you fucking insane? The label is the best thing that ever happened to this band. We'd still be playing dive bars if it wasn't for that label. Instead, we're going to play stadiums all over the fucking country!" Sean exclaimed.

"Easy for you to say!" Bobby responded. "They don't expect you to churn out brilliant material on a regular basis!"

Remy got up and walked over to Bobby, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Bobby, calm down. I have some new songs I can contribute. We can do this without it becoming a big deal."

"I am not inspired twenty-four fucking seven!" Bobby yelled, shoving Remy's arm off of him. "I'm about ready to walk."

Remy glared at John until he set his bass guitar down and walked over to Bobby, pulling him off into a corner. "Bobby, babe, calm down."

"Do not fucking call me that if you don't mean it," Bobby growled.

"Of course I mean it," John whispered, leaning into him. "You know how much I mean it."

"Which is exactly why you went home with two groupies last night."

"So did you!" John exclaimed, glancing back behind him at the band. "Look, we'll talk about this later. For now, can you please just calm down and let us get back to rehearsing?"

"I am not writing new material on this tour," Bobby said through gritted teeth. "I want a fucking break."

"Then take one, babe, and leave the rest to me," John said, kissing him softly. "Okay?"

Bobby took a deep breath and looked in John's eyes, seeing the pleading in them. "Fine."

"Thank you, babe," John said, pulling him back over to the band. "Alright, where were we? About to play _Nightfall_ , right? Let's do that."

Remy watched as Bobby adjusted his guitar, then turned towards John and mouthed thank you. "Alright, let's do this. _Nightfall_ on three. Bobby, count us in."


	2. Chapter 2

Marie stepped out of the car that had taken her to the stadium in Chicago and looked around, trying to figure out where exactly she was. When she'd said she would let Remy take care of all of the arrangements, she hadn't actually thought he would. But he had, and now she was standing in front of Soldier Field with absolutely no idea what to do next.

"Miss D'Ancanto?"

Marie looked up at the sound of her name and saw a man walking towards her, dressed in a smart suit with a credential hanging around his neck. She vaguely remembered him from being in the dressing room at the New York club the week before, but she didn't recall his name. "Hello," she finally remembered to say as he came to a stop next to her.

"I'm Hank McCoy, the band's road manager," he said, holding out a credential. "This needs to go around your neck. Is this your suitcase?"

Marie put the credential around her neck and turned to see her suitcase sitting on the ground, the driver of the car closing the lid of the trunk. "Yes, it is."

"Let me get that and then follow me." Hank picked up the suitcase and then Marie was following him through an entrance and into the bowels of the stadium. "Did you have a nice journey to Chicago, Miss D'Ancanto?"

"Yes," she said, smiling as Hank looked over at her. "And call me Marie, please."

"Then I will." Hank took her to a room that had a printout of the band's name taped to the wall next to the door. "Remy is in there with the band. I'll take care of making sure your suitcase makes it to the hotel."

"Thank you, Hank," Marie said, taking a deep breath before opening the door and walking inside.

"Marie!" Remy stood up immediately and walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug. "You made it here alright?"

"Yes," Marie said, rolling her eyes. "Do you think I'd be here if I hadn't?"

Remy just laughed and pulled her over to the sofa he'd been sitting on, pointing across the room. "Marie, it's time to meet the band. You've already been acquainted with John. He's the bassist."

John smiled at her from across the room. "Lovely to see you again, Marie. Remy hasn't shut up about you since he saw you last week, so I'm glad you're finally here."

Remy picked a drumstick off the table and threw it at him. "Don't listen to a word John says."

Marie laughed. "Oh, I don't know about that. That sounds a lot like something you'd do."

Remy sighed and pointed towards Bobby. "Bobby Drake, lead guitarist and main songwriter."

"Ah yes, the one who thought I was a man," Marie said, laughing when Bobby blushed.

"I sincerely apologize for saying that," Bobby said. "I was very, very drunk. And I stand by my statement that Remy never told us what a stunningly beautiful woman you are."

It was Marie's turn to blush as Remy glared at Bobby for flirting with her before turning his gaze towards Sean. "Sean Cassidy, rhythmic guitar."

"Nice to meet you, Marie."

"Same," Marie replied.

Remy pointed across the room again. "Kitty Pryde, vocalist."

Kitty smiled prettily and held out a hand for Marie to shake. "It's going to be so nice having another girl around here."

"Oh come on, Kitty, you're practically a guy now that you've been around us for so long," Peter called out, causing Kitty to turn and glare at him.

"I am not a guy, asshole."

"And that is Peter Maximoff, keyboardist," Remy said, drawing their attention back to him and Marie.

"Wonderful to meet you, Marie," Peter said.

"Good to meet you too."

"And last, our drummer Scott Summers," Remy said, pointing to the man to Marie's right.

"Always last. Drummers are always the forgotten ones," Scott laughed.

"You don't like the attention!" Sean called out. "Besides, Jean would kill you if she saw you with the groupies."

"Jean?" Marie asked. "Girlfriend?"

"Wife," Scott answered, smiling widely. "She's pregnant with our first child at the moment."

"WHAT?" the rest of the band yelled out, staring over at Scott.

"She told me yesterday before we left," Scott said, beaming. "I'm going to be a father!"

The band all launched themselves at Scott, knocking his chair over backward so they all landed in a pile on the floor. The door to the dressing room opened as Marie started to laugh, and Hank poked his head into the room. "Hey! Nothing that can potentially injure you before the concert!" he called out. "You can do whatever stupid shit you want on stage, but not back here!"

Bobby was the first to free himself from the tangled pile of limbs. "Sorry Hank, but Scott just told us he's going to be a father. We had to!"

Hank just shook his head. "I think a few handshakes and a simple hug or two would have sufficed but alright. Congratulations, Scott."

"Thanks, Hank," Scott yelled out from the bottom of the pile. "Now will you fucking lunatics please get off of me?"

They all made their way back to their seats and Scott was able to set his chair upright again.

"Seriously, Scott, congratulations," Peter said. "Fatherhood is going to change your life for the better."

Marie looked over at him. "Are you a father?"

"Yes," Peter said, grinning. "I've got a daughter with my fiancée and she's my world."

"I bet," Marie said, smiling.

Remy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "So, Marie, what's your favorite song of ours?"

Marie glanced over at Remy. "You really want to know?"

"Yes!" Remy exclaimed. "We'll kick off the show tonight with it. We've already discussed it."

Marie looked around at the band and they were all looking at her anxiously. She slumped down on the sofa and leaned her head back, tilting it to look at Remy. "It's not a single, it's an album track."

"Even better," Bobby said, sliding to the edge of his seat. "Now tell us so we can start rehearsing."

Marie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. " _Back to Wonderland_. That's my favorite song of yours."

"I wrote that song," Remy said, looking over at Marie and nudging her in the shoulder.

Marie opened her eyes. "I know you did. It, um, it's gotten me through a lot of shit."

"Well, let's head out to sound check and get to rehearsing it," Bobby said, grabbing John by the hand and pulling him out of his chair. "Come on, you lazy bastards, we haven't ever played that one live. We've definitely got to rehearse!"

"You want to come to watch?" Remy asked Marie as everyone else stood up and followed Bobby and John out of the room.

"No," Marie said, shaking her head. "I want to be surprised when I hear it tonight."

"Okay," Remy said. "You need anything, tell Darwin. He should be in here in a few minutes."

"I will," Marie said, watching as Remy stood up and walked out of the room. As soon as the door shut, she let out a huge sigh, wondering why on earth she had told Remy that was her favorite song. It wasn't a lie but it wasn't entirely the truth either. _Back to Wonderland_ had a great beat and featured Remy and Kitty on vocals, but that wasn't why she was drawn to the song.

She was drawn to it because she was almost positive that the song Remy had written had been written about her.

She had known since their days in high school that they shared something special, something that went deeper than friendship. But she also knew that Remy would never be good enough for her in her father's eyes, so she'd never pursued anything more than friendship with him, despite all the times when she could tell he was falling in love with her. She knew she had broken his heart on more than one occasion, and the first time she'd heard _Back to Wonderland_ , it had just been confirmation of what she'd thought.

The music started up a moment later, muffled through the various walls and doors that stood between her and the stage. She leaned back into the sofa and let her eyes close, listening to Remy's voice sing the song that haunted her.

_I feel like I've known you since the beginning of time_  
_I can't remember my life before you entered it_  
_And maybe I'm too wrapped up in you_  
_To see the forest from the trees_  
_But our separation has killed me more than you could ever know_  
_I wanna go back to wonderland_  
_That backyard where we laid underneath the stars_  
_And there we talked about everything in the universe_  
_I should have told you that I loved you then_  
_So I wanna go back to wonderland_

Marie was startled when the door suddenly opened and Darwin walked in. "Hi, Darwin."

"Hi Marie," Darwin said, lugging a guitar case into the room and setting it near where Bobby had been sitting. "You're not watching sound check?"

"No, I'd rather wait and watch the real performance."

Darwin just smiled at her as he walked towards the door. "Well, maybe tomorrow. Because sound check really is the performance. The concert just an act."

"I'll think about it," Marie said, letting her eyes drift closed again, listening to the muffled music and wondering if Remy still felt that way about her.

**********

"So how did Sean end up in the band?" Marie asked hours later when she and Remy were sitting on the edge of the stage, looking out across the now-empty venue. "I know he was the last to join."

Remy took a swig of his bottle of beer and laughed. "We rented rehearsal space from his aunt, and we showed up there one day and Sean was just sitting there, playing his guitar. He was fucking brilliant at it, so we asked him to jam with us. And once the seven of us played together, something just clicked. It was like Sean was the missing piece we had been searching so hard for. So from that moment on, he was in the band. He dropped out of school once we got the recording contract with his aunt's blessing. She knew he wanted nothing more than to be a musician."

"I wish I had his aunt," Marie said, picking up her bottle and bringing it to her lips. "Hell, I wish I had anyone but my parents."

Remy looked over at her. "Your mom wasn't that bad."

Marie just laughed. "You haven't been around her lately. Priscilla is a bitch. I think she thinks she's eligible for sainthood. My father just calls her a whore."

"They still aren't on good terms, then?"

"My father thought my brother was his child for seven years before she came clean and told him that Alexander was one of the servants' son," Marie said, taking a long sip from her bottle. "She couldn't even tell him which one of the servants it was. They're never going to be on good terms."

Remy stared at her in disbelief. "You never told me about that!"

"I didn't know until a few years ago. She got a little too drunk and told a whole dinner party full of people the truth behind the divorce. My father confirmed it to me the next day and then asked that I stop going over to hers. Christ, my family is a piece of work. That's why I stayed around yours so much. Yours was so much better than mine."

"Mine was far from perfect," Remy pointed out, reaching behind him and grabbing them each a new bottle. "I preferred yours if you'll recall."

"Yes, my mother inquired whether we had a new member of the family because you were around so much."

"I don't remember that," Remy said, twisting the cap off his new bottle and taking a big sip. "I remember your father saying I could stay in any room I wanted and being amazed since there was what, four hundred and something to choose from."

Marie reached over and shoved Remy in the arm. "There are only one hundred and thirty-eight rooms in that fucking house, and only fifty-six of them are bedrooms."

"I was close!"

"Like fuck you were," Marie said, laughing. "And even with all those rooms to choose from, you chose the one next to mine."

"I was scared I'd get lost otherwise!"

Marie just shook her head. "Christ, I sound so fucking posh sitting here talking about this."

"We could talk about your debutante ball if you wanted to get even posher," Remy said, laughing as Marie shoved him again. "What do you want to talk about then?"

"I don't know. I just like talking to you. I've missed talking to you."

"I've missed talking to you too."

Despite that, they slipped into a comfortable silence, listening to the echo of music being played in the dressing room. Marie let her head rest on Remy's shoulder and he smiled and put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"How did you get over your stage fright?" Marie finally asked, motioning with her hands to all the empty seats spread out in front of them. "You would have been terrified of this before."

"I started acting while I was in high school if you'll recall. And then when I got to Columbia, I thought I'd keep doing that, but Bobby overheard me singing to myself in the library and he invited me to come to sing with the band. At first I turned him down, but he was persistent, and finally, I gave in to shut him up. And then we were in this shitty rehearsal space, and the band started playing some song, I don't even remember what it was now, and I told myself to act like I had confidence in what I was doing. So I did, and eventually, the confidence came, to the point that now I'm a fucking rock star and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"So you faked it until you could really do it," Marie murmured. "Interesting. I seem to recall you using that technique on girls who terrified you too."

Remy groaned and let his body fall back until he was lying on the stage. "Oh, you would bring that up, wouldn't you?"

"What, you clearly were going to have fun with a couple of those groupies if I hadn't been there the other night," Marie pointed out. "And I don't blame you. You're a single man who's a fucking rock star. Do whatever the fuck you want. I don't even know why you're sitting here with me when you could be picking out your entertainment for the night in the dressing room like the rest of the band is doing."

Remy sat up and wrapped an arm around Marie's shoulders. "I'd rather be with you than any of those groupies. Trust me."

Marie's earlier thoughts about Remy's feelings for her resurfaced in her mind, and she quickly shoved them away. "So what, you're not going to have sex during the tour because I'm here? Please, Remy, don't go without just because of me."

Remy laughed. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Tonight, I choose you. Tomorrow night, I may choose them."

"Please, for everyone's sake, choose them at least once a week."

Remy couldn't stop himself from giggling. "I am not one of those people who turns into a raving lunatic if I haven't had sex for a while."

"Still," Marie said, her voice deadly serious. "Don't spend all your time with me. I want you to have some fun."

"Spending time with you is fun," Remy said, leaning over to kiss the top of Marie's head.

"Don't do that," Marie said, shifting away from him.

"I used to do that all the time," Remy murmured.

"I know," Marie replied. "Just don't, okay? Doug used to do it too, and yeah, just don't."

"Are you ever going to tell me about him?"

"No," Marie said, shaking her head. "He's in the past. I see no reason to tell you about him."

"He was going to be your future at one point," Remy said, sipping at his bottle.

Marie took a long drink from hers. "Well, he's not anymore. I don't know what my future holds. I might become nothing more than one of those socialites they photograph falling out of clubs at all hours of the morning for a while. That's about as far as my ambition goes at the moment."

"Well, whenever I'm in New York, you can fall out of the clubs with me," Remy said, nudging her slightly. "That'll give them something to talk about."

Marie laughed. "Oh, the socialite and the rock star. Yes, that might generate a few headlines. Your manager would probably hate me."

"Nah, Erik will fall in love with you, as all men tend to do if I recall correctly. You've had us falling at your feet since you were six."

"Don't remind me." Marie tipped back her bottle and polished it off. "Are we out of beer yet?"

Remy looked behind him. "Yes, we are."

"Then let's go find something else to drink," Marie said, standing up. "I can't believe you got me to drink beer."

Remy laughed as he stood up, bending down to gather up the empty bottles. "Don't worry. Some expensive whiskey will be in your hand soon enough."

**********

John slid his key into the lock and opened the door to the hotel room, then grabbed Bobby by the elbow and dragged him inside. He backed Bobby up against the door to close it, and the moment he'd secured the locks, his lips met Bobby's in a passionate kiss. Bobby immediately wrapped his arms around John's neck and pulled him closer, letting him prey upon his mouth.

They stayed locked together for several moments, John's hands running up and down Bobby's sides until John suddenly broke away and walked further into the room. Bobby collapsed back against the door, breathing heavily, watching as John dropped down onto one of the beds.

"What the hell are you doing over there?" Bobby finally managed to say, looking over at John.

"Lying down," John responded, putting his hands behind his head. "Thought I might watch some television before bed."

"You are a lousy motherfucker," Bobby said, pushing away from the door and stalking over to where his suitcase was sitting.

"What?" John asked, faking innocence.

"You know what," Bobby gritted out, slamming his suitcase open and rummaging through it. "Lousy bastard."

John just laughed. "Great gig tonight, yeah? The crowd was amazing, singing along to everything. I could go out there and do it all again right now."

"Yeah, great gig," Bobby muttered, throwing half the clothes out of his suitcase. "Fucking hell. Don't tell me I didn't pack it."

John's joking manner stopped, and he immediately sat up. "What do you mean, you didn't fucking pack it?"

Bobby threw the rest of his clothes onto the floor and then knocked the suitcase down with them. "It's not in there. I swear to fucking God, I checked that I packed it, but it's not fucking in there."

John groaned and collapsed back onto the bed. "Well, what the fuck are we going to do now?"

"I don't fucking know," Bobby said, kicking his empty suitcase. "Fuck! I take it you didn't pack anything?"

"You are the one who packs this shit, not me!" John called out. "Of course I fucking didn't."

Bobby turned around and stared at John. "What the fuck are we going to do?"

"Go and get some," John said, waving his hands in the direction of the door.

"You fucking go and get some!"

John propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Bobby. "You are the one responsible for this shit. You go get it."

The pair continued this argument for awhile until Bobby was about to go over to the bed and punch John straight in the nose. There was a knock at the door before he could, and after a few moments of staring at each other, Bobby huffed and made his way over to it, throwing it open. "What the fuck do you want?"

Marie took a step back in surprise at Bobby's words, and once his gaze settled upon her, Bobby softened. "Marie! I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would be you."

"It's alright," Marie said, holding out the paper bag she had. "Here."

Bobby looked at her funnily. "What's this?"

"You, um," Marie started, blushing slightly. "You two were a little loud with your disagreement and well, my room's right next door, so I heard you, and well, I know you can't be seen buying this stuff yourself, so I went and did it for you. Just, um, keep it down, yeah?"

Bobby watched as Marie turned and walked back into the room whose door was right next to theirs, then opened the bag and stared at the contents. "Holy fuck."

John watched as Bobby closed and locked the door, still staring into the bag. "What the fuck did she buy us?"

"What the fuck do you think, Johnny?" Bobby asked, tossing the bag in his direction and then working quickly to take off his shirt.

John looked into the bag and started laughing. He reached inside and pulled the lube and condoms out, then looked up at Bobby who was almost naked. "Moving a little fast, aren't we?"

"Nothing is fast enough after that kiss you gave me, Allerdyce. Now take your fucking clothes off so we can put that shit to good use," Bobby said, walking over to the wall and slapping it a few times. "Thanks, Marie!"

"You're welcome!" was heard muffled through the wall as Bobby turned and jumped towards John.


	3. Chapter 3

Marie was sound asleep in the backseat of the car that had taken her to the stadium when it pulled up to Soldier Field. The driver took a look back at her before climbing out of the car. He looked around and saw Hank walking towards him. “She is asleep.”

Hank nodded and opened the door to the backseat, ducking inside and seeing Marie sitting there, her head lolled to one side and her eyes closed. He undid her seat belt, grabbed her bag, and then carefully slid his arms underneath her, picking her up and removing her from the car. “I've got her from here.”

“Of course,” the driver said, turning back to the car.

Hank carried her into the band's empty dressing room and laid her down on the sofa, then turned around and left the room. Marie was still asleep an hour later when the door to the dressing room opened and the band came filing in, talking among themselves. Remy immediately spotted her and went over to the sofa, kneeling down next to it and brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“Marie,” he said softly, running his fingers along her cheekbone. “Marie, wake up.”

Marie's eyes slowly opened to see Remy staring down at her, and she smiled. “Hello.”

“Hello, darling,” Remy said. “You decided to take a nap while we were doing the interview?”

Marie blinked and looked around the room, realizing she was in the dressing room. “I have no idea how I got here. Last memory I have was in the car.”

“Hank probably carried you in,” Bobby said, sitting down across from the sofa and smiling at her. “He's done that with me a few times when I've been exhausted. Oh, and thanks, Marie.”

Marie laughed. “You're welcome, Bobby.”

Remy looked between them. “What is that all about?”

“Nothing you need to know,” Bobby said quickly.

Remy stared at Bobby as Marie sat up, and she reached over to Remy and pulled him up onto the sofa. “Let it go, Remy.”

Remy settled back against the sofa as Marie smoothed out her skirt and leaned up against him. “Fine. How are you today, darling?”

“I've had better days,” Marie said, leaning her head against Remy's shoulder. “How was your interview?”

“Boring as fuck,” John declared, sitting down next to Bobby and winking at Marie. “They always ask the same stupid questions and we always give the same standard answers.”

“They did ask about the tour this time,” Kitty pointed out as she sat down. “They said they loved the first show.”

“But of course they're going to say that,” John said, letting his hand rest on Bobby's thigh. “They're not going to say to our fucking faces that they hated it.”

Remy leaned over to Marie as Kitty and John continued to go back and forth about the interview. “John's always afraid people are going to hate our live shows,” he whispered in her ear. “To the point of paranoia.”

“But you guys are excellent on stage,” Marie whispered back. “And the review of the show was positive.”

Remy pulled back and looked at her, his voice rising in volume. “You've read a review of the show?”

The whole room fell silent and everyone turned to look at Marie. She squirmed a little under their scrutiny and nodded. “It was in the paper this morning.”

“Do you still have it?” John inquired, sliding his hand down to Bobby's knee, making Bobby realize that John was touching him.

Marie leaned forward to where her bag sat on the table, searching through it as she watched Bobby remove John's hand from his leg. She grabbed the page she tore out of the newspaper and pulled it out, handing it over to Remy. “I was keeping it to make a scrapbook of this tour adventure, so don't ruin that.”

“You're going to make a scrapbook,” Remy said, incredulous.

“I'm going to hire someone to make a scrapbook,” Marie clarified. “I wouldn't know how to be crafty if I tried.”

“Fuck the scrapbook,” John said anxiously. “What does the review say?”

Remy looked down at the newspaper clipping and scanned it quickly. “It's a five-star review,” he said after a moment, pride in his voice. “This is the best part. 'The chemistry of The Mutants has never been in doubt, but it seems to be even stronger on this tour than in past performances. Summers stands out from behind the drum kit, Cassidy is magical on the right side of the stage, there is genuine electricity between Drake and Allerdyce, Maximoff is exceptional on the piano, Pryde's vocals are crystal clear and never out of tune, and LeBeau looks like a new man after seeming to be tired by the grind during their last tour.' They fucking loved us.”

John sighed heavily in relief and slumped down in his chair. “Oh thank Christ.”

“Erik's going to zero in on that 'genuine electricity' between us line,” Bobby said, looking over at John. “He won't be happy.”

“We have always flirted on stage,” John said, shaking his head. “Erik encourages that. He'll probably love that review.”

Remy laughed. “So are you two admitting that something is happening between you then?”

“No,” John said, standing up and walking towards the door. “There is not a thing happening between us.”

John slammed the door shut behind him and Bobby sighed, standing up and walking after him. Once Bobby had left the room, the other band members burst out laughing.

“I've got twenty bucks that says they find a closet to fuck in,” Scott said, tossing the bill onto the table.

Marie looked over at Remy, confused. “They won't even admit it to you guys?”

“John's super sensitive about it,” Remy said, looking over at Scott. “I've got twenty that says Hank finds them and marches them back in here first.”

“Twenty that says they get caught by Darwin,” Peter said, standing up. “I'm going to go call Crystal.”

Marie looked over at Remy as Peter walked out of the room. “Crystal?”

“Crystal Amaquelin, his fiancée. She's a director,” Remy said, looking over at Kitty. “What about you, Kitty?”

Kitty sighed. “Ten that says they don't get caught.”

Everyone then looked over at Sean, who just shook his head. “I'm not getting involved in this. It always costs me money.”

“Come on, Sean,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair. “Join in the fun.”

Sean just rolled his eyes. “Betting about whether Bobby and John are going to fuck is not fun.”

“That's because you always bet they won't, and you're always wrong!” Remy exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, man.”

“Fuck off,” Sean said, standing up and walking out of the dressing room, much to the amusement of Remy, Kitty, and Scott.

Marie snatched the newspaper clipping back from Remy and returned it to her bag. “I don't even want to know how many times you've bet over this, or what Bobby and John think about it.”

“John thinks it's hilarious because he claims nothing happens. Bobby, not so much.” Scott said, standing up when his phone started ringing. “That is Jean.”

Remy watched as Scott walked out of the room and then slid an arm around Marie's shoulders. “Why were you sleeping in the car on the way over here? Did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“No,” Marie said. “Bobby and John kept me up.”

Kitty burst out laughing and Marie couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. “It was alright. It's not like I've never been kept up by listening to someone fuck before. Walls between apartments are thinner than I thought they would be.”

“I didn't realize you had the room next to theirs,” Remy said. “I'm sorry. I should have warned you about what they're like the first night of a new tour.”

“It's fine,” Marie said.

“I'll make sure you have the room next to mine tonight,” Remy said seriously. “If I have any female entertainment, they won't be staying all night.”

Marie laughed. “Female entertainment. So that's what you call the groupies, huh?”

“Well, I'd rather spend the evening with you, to be honest,” Remy said, looking over at her. “I enjoyed our post-concert chat last night. But someone told me to have fun on this tour, so tonight I just might.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “You should be having fun,” she said. “Do not worry about me.”

“I can't not worry about you, Marie,” Remy said, squeezing her shoulder. “All you tell me you've been through, and I'm supposed to think that you're perfectly fine?”

“I told you, I was given a clean bill of health.”

“But you didn't tell me that your cancer reached Stage Four before that,” Remy said.

Kitty turned away and quickly put headphones on as Marie sat up and fixed a glare on Remy. “Who did you talk to?”

“Your father called me after he discovered you were going to follow the band around,” Remy said sheepishly. “I may have asked him some questions I had.”

“He called you?” Marie asked, seething. “That lousy son of a bitch! He promised me he wouldn't.”

Remy watched as Marie searched through her bag for her phone, then sank back against the sofa as she started to type a message furiously. “He's worried about you, Marie.”

“I could fucking kill you both right now,” Marie spit out, sending the message and tossing her phone onto the table. “What the fuck else did he tell you?”

“He told me how wonderful Doug was,” Remy said quietly. “He said that he didn't understand why you weren't still with him.”

“I was only with Doug to make him happy,” Marie said angrily. “It certainly wasn't to make me happy.”

“Please don't be angry,” Remy murmured. “I just wanted to know more about what happened since I last saw you, and for the first time, your father seemed pleased to be talking to me.”

“My father hates you,” Marie said, slumping down on the sofa.

“I've always thought that as well,” Remy said, shifting around so he was facing her. “But he said he'd heard some of the band's music, and that he was glad that I'd succeeded at something.”

“That's because he thought you weren't going to succeed at anything,” Marie said, sighing heavily and leaning into Remy. “Next time you want to know something about me, talk to me, you lousy bastard. Don't talk to my fucking father of all people.”

“I will, Marie,” Remy said sincerely. “I promise.”

Marie leaned her head against Remy's chest and breathed in his scent. “How do you still smell the same as you always have?”

Remy laughed. “Probably because I've been using the same aftershave since I was fourteen or something.”

“I like it,” Marie said, closing her eyes. “And I'm not mad at you.”

Remy dropped a kiss onto the top of Marie's head and smiled. “I know you told me not to do that either, but I can't help myself.”

Marie spent another moment lying against him, thinking about how many times in the past she'd been cradled against Remy, usually lying underneath the stars in the backyard of her family's estate. Then she pushed herself back to sitting upright and looked at Remy. “Yes, it got to Stage Four. Yes, I could have died. Yes, I got into a study of some experimental medicine that cured me. Yes, it completely changed me as a person. No, I do not want to ever speak about this again. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly,” Remy said, glancing at his watch. “I should go round up everyone. We've got sound check soon. Are you going to come to watch?”

“Maybe in a while,” Marie said, sighing. “I need to call my father first.”

“Don't be too hard on him,” Remy said. “He's just worried about you.”

“I'm sick of people worrying about me,” Marie murmured. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“So you keep saying,” Remy muttered as he stood up. “I'll see you there. Kitty! Come on! Soundcheck!”

**********

Marie blinked the sleep out of her eyes as her phone's message alert tone went off on the bedside table. Shaking her head, she reached towards it and clicked through to the message, scanning it quickly with her eyes.

_I can't get this girl to leave my room. Help!_

Laughing, Marie sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp, typing out a message back.

_What am I supposed to do? You're the one who took her back to your room, Remy._

Another message arrived a few moments later.

_Only because you wanted me to! I would have much preferred to spend the evening with you! And just come knock on my door or something. Please? I'm begging you._

Marie sighed and stood up, looking down at her pajamas before deciding she should probably be wearing actual clothes if she was going to go knock at Remy's door. She set the phone down and quickly changed into the dress she'd been wearing earlier, then walked into the bathroom to make sure her hair looked alright. A few minutes later, she grabbed her phone and her room key and headed out into the hall, looking around for a moment before typing another message to Remy.

_Room number?_

_486_ , came the response, and Marie walked down the hall, checking to make sure she stopped at the right room. When she was certain, she stepped in front of the door and knocked on it.

“Remy, darling. Are you in there?” Marie could hear a female voice ask who that was and smiled. “I've just arrived, love, and I'm tired. Open the door.”

The door opened moments later, Remy leaning up against it with nothing but a sheet wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you,” he whispered before raising his voice. “Charlotte, I was wondering when you were going to get here. Come in, please.”

Marie gave him a confused look at the use of a different name and walked into the room to find a tall brunette standing naked next to the beds. “Oh, I see you have company.”

“She was just leaving,” Remy said, picking up the woman's bra and tossing it at her.

Marie turned to Remy and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “So much for being faithful, huh?”

Remy sighed and walked over to Marie, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I said I'd try.”

“You obviously didn't try very hard,” Marie said, pulling away from him and glancing over her shoulder at the now half-dressed woman.

“You didn't tell me you weren't single,” the woman said accusingly.

“Would it have mattered?” Remy asked, looking over at her.

The woman stared at him for a moment before sliding her dress over her head. “No, not really.”

“That's why I didn't tell you,” Remy replied, pulling Marie back close to him. “It was fun, Emma.”

“It's Emily,” the woman said, slipping on her shoes and walking towards the door. “And it wasn't that fun.”

Remy watched as the woman walked out of the room, then darted towards the door and locked it. “Thank you so much. That was an absolute disaster.”

“How was it a disaster?” Marie asked, sitting down on the bed that was still made. “You picked a girl, you got laid, and you got her to leave.”

“You got her to leave,” Remy said, collapsing down onto the other bed. “I was too drunk, she was too willing, and I certainly didn't call her by the right name. It wasn't exactly satisfying.”

“Right, the whole Emma-Emily thing.”

“No, it was a different name than that,” Remy said, having the decency to look embarrassed. “Fuck, I hope she doesn't go to the papers. I should call Erik and warn him that she might.”

“Call Erik in the morning,” Marie said, shifting around until she was lying on the bed. “Sleep now or you'll be really hungover tomorrow.”

“Are you staying here then?”

“I was asleep when you texted me,” Marie said, closing her eyes. “The least you can do is let me crash on your extra bed.”

“Okay,” Remy said, grabbing one of the pillows and shoving it under his head. “I'll buy you breakfast in the morning.”

“Sounds good.”

They laid there in silence for what felt like hours, and then Remy shifted onto his side, looking over at Marie. “Marie, you awake?”

The only response he got was silence, and he took a deep breath.

“I called her Marie,” Remy whispered. “That's why I called you Charlotte when you got here, so she wouldn't put two and two together. I wasn't lying when I said I'd rather have spent the evening with you.”

Marie listened to every word that Remy said, but couldn't bring herself to reply. Her mind was too busy swirling with the thought that Remy wanted to be with her like that. They'd only been reacquainted for a little over a week. How could he possibly know that he wanted her in that way? _Because he's always loved you_ , her mind supplied.

She opened up her eyes and looked over at him, only to find his head lolled to the side and him sleeping soundly. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes once more, trying to block out her thoughts and let sleep take her.


	4. Chapter 4

_From this vantage point, I can see the whole world_  
_And it doesn't mean a thing, baby_  
_From this vantage point, I can see the whole universe_  
_And it doesn't mean a thing, baby_  
_Without you by my side, I might as well be blind_  
_The story of us is long and complicated_  
_But isn't that what makes it worth it in the end?_  
_The right one, that's what you are_  
_The perfect one for me_  
_The right one, that's what you are_  
_The only one for me_  
_Ooh, the right one baby_

Remy spun around from the microphone and walked towards Scott's drum kit, reaching for a bottle of water as Bobby and John started in on the guitar and bass solos. He glanced over at the side of the stage and saw Marie standing there, drink in hand, chatting away with Moira. He caught her eye and she smiled at him. He smiled back and took another sip of water, then made his way back to the microphone to sing with Kitty.

“Come on Denver, sing along with us!”

_From this vantage point, I can see the past_  
_And it doesn't mean a thing, baby_  
_From this vantage point, I can see the future_  
_And it means everything, baby_  
_You shy away from me because you're scared of how you feel_  
_But I'm just as terrified as you are_  
_I never thought I'd meet someone like you_  
_But now that I have, there's no doubt in my mind that you're home_  
_The right one, that's what you are_  
_The perfect one for me_  
_The right one, that's what you are_  
_The only one for me_  
_Ooh, the right one baby_

From the side of the stage, Marie took a long sip of her whiskey and leaned in closer to Moira. “They're incredible live, aren't they?”

“They really are,” Moira said back, staring at Sean. “Sean's so sexy in his stage outfit.”

Marie had never really paid any attention to what the band wore on stage before, but as she looked at Sean, she took in the perfectly-fitted jeans, the long-sleeved shirt with an asymmetrical neckline that clung to Sean's every muscle, and the fedora that was perched upon his head. She turned her attention to Remy just in time to see him strip off his patchwork jacket to reveal a tight white t-shirt that said Love Me on the front of it. He was also wearing a pair of perfectly-fitted jeans, and a quick glance at the rest of the band showed her that they all were except Kitty, who was in a denim skirt.

“Yeah, they all look amazing,” Marie said, taking in the rest of the band's fashion as she sipped at her drink.

“So you and Remy doing it?” Moira asked suddenly, causing Marie to nearly choke.

“Excuse me?”

Moira looked over at her and laughed. “Come on, it'll stay among us girlfriends. I promise I won't say a thing to Sean about it.”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “We're not.”

Moira gave her a skeptical look. “Oh come on. You can't be telling me that you have the opportunity to be bedding that,” she said, pointing over to where Remy was spinning around in the middle of another guitar solo, “and that you aren't doing it.”

“Yes, I am,” Marie said, her eyes locked on Remy. “He's my best friend.”

“Who is totally in love with you,” Moira pointed out, shrugging when Marie whipped her gaze around to her. “What? Sean told me. Also, it's totally obvious.”

Marie sighed heavily and polished off her drink, turning around and waving her empty glass at Darwin, who just nodded and took off towards the dressing room. “I know he is,” she admitted as quietly as she could. “But I don't know if I feel the same way about him.”

“That's exactly the dilemma I find myself in with Sean,” Moira called out. “Sean's head over heels for me, but I just don't know about him. I'm totally too young to be settling down.”

“So just tell him that,” Marie suggested. “If he loves you as much as you say he does, he'll understand.”

“Sean and I don't exactly have the kind of relationship where we talk about things,” Moira said, smiling when Darwin suddenly was holding a glass of wine in front of her. “Thanks, Darwin. Anyway, our relationship is more physical than anything else.”

Marie quickly thanked Darwin for the new glass of whiskey and turned back to the stage, watching as Bobby and John came to sing into Remy's microphone with him. “Well, maybe you should do some talking then.”

“And maybe you and Remy should be more physical.”

Marie sighed again. “I've known him since I was six.”

“So what?”

“So, every time I think about what it would be like to have sex with him, the image of six-year-old him pops into my head, and I can't go any further.”

“Ooh, yeah, I can see how that would be a buzz kill,” Moira said, sipping at her wine. “You're just going to have to push past that.”

“I don't know if I can,” Marie murmured.

Back on stage, the band was just about done with their set, and Remy stepped up to the microphone to speak. “Alright, Denver, one more for you! This one is about an absolutely beautiful woman that I am privileged to know, and I want to dedicate this one to her. So this is for you, Charlotte.”

Remy turned and looked straight at Marie as the opening notes of _Back To Wonderland_ started to play, and Marie nearly dropped her drink. Instead, she quickly spun around and started walking away from the side of the stage.

Moira followed her, somewhat confused. “You know the band's coming on to do an encore after that song, right?”

“You can watch if you want,” Marie said, heading towards the dressing room. “But I can't watch him sing that song again. It hurts too much.”

“Why? Because it's about some woman named Charlotte?”

Marie stopped and spun around, seeing a truly confused Moira staring at her. “No, Moira. It hurts because I _am_ Charlotte. It's a name he said...it's too complicated to explain. But I am Charlotte, and goddammit, that fucking song is about me.”

Marie spun back around and stalked into the dressing room, collapsing onto the sofa. She set her glass down on one of the tables nearby and then ran her hands over her face. She had absolutely no clue what to do about Remy. She'd been waiting to see if he would make a move ever since that night in his hotel room in Minneapolis a week before, but he hadn't done a thing until now.

She had no idea what to do, but she did know someone who might. So she sat up and found her bag, pulling out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she was looking for, and then she pressed the right button to connect the call. She leaned back against the sofa as she heard it start to ring, smiling when she heard it answered.

“Hey Jubilee, it's Marie. Do you want to come to hang out with the band for a little while? My treat. I really need you here.”

When she heard the shrieked yes on the other end of the phone, Marie relaxed. “I'll arrange everything. You start packing, and I'll call you back later. Alright, darling. Talk soon.”

Marie hung up the phone and tossed it back into her bag. It wouldn't be hard to convince Remy to fly Jubilee into the next city they were headed to.

In fact, Marie thought she could probably talk Remy into just about anything at this moment. He was so lucky that Marie had no desire to take advantage of him.

**********

“I cannot believe I'm going to be in the same room as John Allerdyce,” Jubilee squealed into Marie's ear, clutching at her elbow. “Oh my God, you are totally introducing me.”

Marie looked over at her easily excitable friend and smiled. “You'll meet the whole band. Calm down.”

“Why did you keep the knowledge that you knew Remy LeBeau to yourself for so long?” Jubilee asked, letting go of Marie's arm. “We could have been getting the VIP treatment at Mutants concerts for years!”

“I hadn't talked to him in years,” Marie said. “Besides, I wouldn't have taken advantage of Remy like that, despite the fact that The Mutants are your favorite band.”

Jubilee just grinned at her. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Marie said, shaking her head. “And don't think I'm doing this and wanting nothing in return. You've got to help me figure out what to do about Remy.”

“Why don't you just give him a chance, Marie?” Jubilee said seriously. “Christ, if Remy LeBeau was in love with me, I'd give him a chance.”

“You know why,” Marie said, walking away from Jubilee and collapsing onto her bed.

Jubilee turned towards her. “You cannot hang on to the memory of Doug forever. You're going to have to move on, Marie.”

“He called me.”

“And you answered?” Jubilee rolled her eyes. “Marie, you know better than to do that.”

“He apologized.”

Jubilee walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. “For being a dick, for cheating on you, or for beating the shit out of you?”

“He never beat the shit out of me,” Marie protested.

“He laid a hand on you; that's enough for me. And listen to yourself, Marie. You're still making excuses for him.”

“I am not,” Marie sighed. “He apologized for everything. Wants to meet up for drinks when the tour hits Charlotte.”

“You better have told him no,” Jubilee warned, knowing when Marie covered her face with her hands that she hadn't. “Marie!”

Marie sighed again. “I deserve that.”

“You are not going to that meeting with Doug,” Jubilee declared. “I don't care if I have to get Remy involved to stop you from going. You are not going.”

“Remy will be too busy with groupies to care,” Marie said, looking up at Jubilee. “I've been encouraging him to pick them up.”

“Fucking hell,” Jubilee said, standing up and walking to her suitcase. “You are really fucking this up.”

“I can't just sleep with him, Jubilee. I need my best friend. I don't want to lose him over this.”

“Why can't you look at it as enhancing your relationship with each other instead of ruining it?” Jubilee asked, pulling her makeup bag from her suitcase and heading towards the bathroom. “If everything you have told me is true, that man has been in love with you since he was a boy. And you've been in love with him too.”

“Of course I love him,” Marie said, running her hands over her face. “He's my best friend.”

“He's a hell of a lot more than that,” Jubilee called out.

“How can he be a hell of a lot more than that when I didn't speak to him for a decade?” Marie asked. “I knew how to get a hold of him and I didn't. That's got to mean something.”

“Yeah, it means that you were completely fucked up after the Doug affair, and you didn't get your head out of your ass until after you nearly died,” Jubilee said, sticking her head out of the bathroom doorway. “You nearly died, and the first thing you did was tell me that you needed to get back to what made you happiest, and what made you happiest was being in Remy LeBeau's presence. And after I nearly killed you for never telling me you knew Remy LeBeau, you told me you were going to find some way of getting in contact with him.”

“Yeah, but I didn't,” Marie pointed out. “It was by chance that I ran into his mother that day.”

“That wasn't chance,” Jubilee said, “that was fate. Fate telling you to go to that concert and get your man.”

Marie groaned and threw a pillow towards the bathroom. “He's not my man!”

“Well, he should be,” Jubilee said, ducking back into the bathroom. “And I'm going to do my best to make sure it happens.”

“This is not what I brought you here for.”

“Maybe not, but this is what I came for!” Jubilee yelled. “And maybe, possibly, to meet John Allerdyce!”

“Great,” Marie said to herself. “Just great.”

**********

Jubilee was deep in discussion with John about something, and Marie was watching as Bobby subtly checked on them every once and awhile. She could tell that Bobby wasn't happy about John's flirting, but knew he couldn't do anything about it either. Marie stood up and refilled her drink before sitting down next to Bobby, smiling at him as he tuned a guitar.

“Sorry about her.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Marie,” Bobby said, glancing over at Jubilee and John again. “He can do whoever and whatever he wants. That's part of the deal.”

Marie watched him for a moment then leaned closer. “Does he even realize all the songs you write are about him?”

Bobby looked over at her and shook his head. “How did you know?”

“It's kind of obvious once someone knows about the true nature of your relationship,” Marie said quietly.

“Well, he's oblivious as usual,” Bobby said, turning his attention back to the guitar. He played a few strings then went back to tuning it. “Do you realize that every song Remy has written is about you?”

Marie's jaw dropped and she stared over at Bobby in shock. “They are not,” she stuttered out. “I mean, _Back to Wonderland_ is, but not all of them.”

“I think you should listen to them again,” Bobby said, glancing over at her. “With a fresh perspective. Then try telling me they aren't about you.”

“For someone who thought I was a man,” Marie said, “you seem fairly confident that those songs are about me.”

“I apologize again for my drunken idiocy. And it was obvious once I realized the truth of your relationship with Remy,” Bobby murmured, glancing over at Jubilee and John again. “Remy has literally not stopped talking about you since you showed up at the surprise gig. He's driving us crazy on the bus. We keep telling him to do something about it, but he won't. Not until you give him a sign that it's okay.”

Marie looked up as the dressing room door opened and Remy walked in, talking to Darwin. He caught her gaze and smiled brilliantly at her, and she couldn't help but return it.

“See,” Bobby said quietly. “He makes you smile like that.”

“That doesn't mean anything,” Marie said, turning her attention back to Bobby.

“Maybe it doesn't to you, but it certainly does to him.” Bobby played a few notes on the guitar and then stood up. “I'm going to go write a song.”

Marie watched him glance over at Jubilee and John again as he walked out of the dressing room, and she sighed. She didn't want to deny Jubilee what she wanted, but she didn't want Bobby to be hurt either.

“You look lost in thought,” Remy said, sitting down in the chair Bobby had just vacated. “Everything alright?”

“Fine,” Marie said, smiling at him. “Bobby said he was going to write a song, and I was thinking about how brilliant it's going to be.”

“Yes, he does have a talent for that,” Remy said, reaching behind him and grabbing a beer off the table. “He's always very patient with me when I am in the writing process. I know my stuff isn't anywhere near as good as his.”

“I think your songs are brilliant too.”

“You're too kind,” Remy said, taking a long sip of his beer. “I think they only turn out so well because I have such a beautiful muse.”

“Are you going to tell me who that muse is?” Marie asked, turning her gaze away from Remy.

“A writer never gives away his muse,” Remy said, making Marie look at him. “I'd love to know who Bobby's muse is.”

Marie laughed. “You can't tell?”

“Tell what?” Remy asked.

“Nothing,” Marie said, shaking her head when Remy looked at her with pleading eyes. “Nope, I'm not telling.”

“How can you know who Bobby's muse is and I don't?”

“Sometimes it's a case of being too close to the forest to see the trees,” Marie said, knocking back her drink. “How long until sound check?”

“About half an hour,” Remy said, sliding his chair closer to Marie's. “Tell me about Jubilee?”

“We met at Georgetown. Her dad is the U.N. Ambassador. He keeps wanting her to get involved in politics but right now she's busy trying to write a book. The Mutants are her favorite band and she is currently in heaven talking to John.”

“She's an author?”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “She's just writing a book.”

“Is she going to try to get it published?”

“I have no idea. I think she's just doing it to keep her father from making her take the bar exam. She went to law school.”

“If you've known her since Georgetown, that means she's been around when I wasn't, right?”

Marie looked over at Remy and put a hand on his knee. “You've got to get over this. We both made mistakes over the past decade. I'm sure there were plenty of times when I could have helped you out. You know there were plenty of times when I needed your help but didn't have it. We've just got to put it behind us and forget about it. Then we can move on.”

“But there is just so much I wasn't there for,” Remy said passionately. “So many major life things that you went through. I just joined a band, dropped out of college, and somehow became famous.”

“And if you don't think that is a major life thing, then you are an idiot,” Marie said, squeezing Remy's knee before standing up and searching for the bottle of whiskey. “Christ, only touring with a band would have me drinking whiskey at all hours.”

“Marie, the way I remember you and whiskey, you'd be drinking it with breakfast if you could.”

Marie laughed as she poured herself another drink. “Good point,” she said as she sat back down. “I think I'm going to watch sound check today.”

“Good,” Remy said. “I've always wanted you to watch sound check.”

**********

The band was mostly finished with sound check when Remy noticed that Bobby was brooding over in his corner of the stage instead of interacting with John like he always did. That meant that Bobby had noticed John's desire to make Jubilee that night's conquest and that Remy had to do something fast to get his lead guitarist and his bassist on the same page for that night's concert.

“Bobby!” Remy yelled out. “Grab your guitar and get over here!”

Bobby looked over at Remy like he was insane but did as he was told. “What?”

“I think tonight would be a great night to throw a cover into the set list,” Remy said, grinning. “And I know exactly which one.”

“You couldn't have told me this over there?” Bobby asked, glancing behind him to see John over at the side of the stage, talking to Jubilee again.

“No,” Remy said, leaning in close. “Three words. Franz Ferdinand. _Michael._ ”

Bobby turned his attention to Remy and sighed. “I always sing that one.”

“Exactly,” Remy said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in front of the microphone. “And you can sing it tonight.”

“Remy, no,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “Not tonight.”

“Tonight is perfect,” Remy replied. “It'll get his attention away from her.”

Bobby went to argue with Remy then stopped himself. Remy just grinned and walked over to Peter, Kitty, Sean, and Scott, telling each of them what they were going to play next. He didn't go over and tell John, preferring instead for him to learn what song they were practicing by letting him hear the opening notes.

Remy went over to Bobby's microphone and then nodded at Bobby, and Bobby looked back at everyone before launching into the beginning of _Michael._ At the sound of the music, John's head whipped around, and Remy grinned as Bobby started to sing.

_This is where I'll be, so heavenly_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_So sexy, I'm sexy_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_I'm all that you see, you wanna see_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_So close now, so close now_  
_So come and dance with me_  
_So come and dance with me_  
_So come and dance with me_

John made his way over to Bobby, picking up his bass guitar on the way. He got as close as he could to Bobby and started playing along, leaning into the microphone to sing with him.

_Michael_  
_You're the boy with all the leather hips_  
_Sticky hair, sticky hips_  
_Stubble on my sticky lips_  
_Michael_  
_You're the only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor_  
_Michael, you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore_  
_Michael, waiting on a silver platter now_  
_And nothing matters now_

Remy caught Marie's eye and grinned at her, pointing at where Bobby and John were now turned towards each other, playing and singing as though they were the only two in the stadium.

_This is what I am, I am a man_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_So strong now, it's strong now_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_I'm all that you see, you wanna see_  
_So come and dance with me, Michael_  
_So close now, it's close now_  
_So come and dance with me_  
_So come and dance with me_  
_So come and dance with me_

“That is so fucking sexy,” Jubilee said as Marie giggled. “You think I could convince Bobby to join me and John tonight?”

“I think you're going to have trouble convincing John to leave Bobby to join you tonight,” Marie said, her giggles turning to a full blown laugh when John suddenly let go of his guitar and grabbed Bobby, spinning him around the stage as though they were dancing on a dance floor.

Remy was cracking up on the other side of the stage, and everyone else eventually stopped playing, watching with amusement as John continued to dance with Bobby. In the middle of their dance, Bobby suddenly started singing again, determined to finish off the song.

_Michael, you're the boy with all the leather hips_  
_Sticky hair, sticky hips_  
_Stubble on my sticky lips_  
_Michael, you're the only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor_  
_Michael, you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore_  
_Michael, waiting on a silver platter now_  
_And nothing matters now_  
_Michael, you're the only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Michael, you're the only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Only one I'd ever want_  
_Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor_  
_Michael, you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore_  
_Michael, waiting on a silver platter now_  
_Nothing matters now_  
_Nothing matters now_  
_Oh yeah_

When Bobby had finished singing, John pulled him as close as he could with their two guitars hanging between them. “You are so fucking sexy when you sing that song,” John whispered into Bobby's ear. “I could rip your clothes off right here.”

Bobby pulled back with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Too bad you've already picked out your entertainment for the night, then isn't it?”

Bobby pushed John backward then walked over to where Remy was, giving him a slight nod. “Thanks, Remy.”

“You're more than welcome, Bobby. We're totally doing that number tonight, right?”

Bobby looked back at John, who was staring at him with confusion on his face and started to laugh. “You better fucking believe it. And with that, lady and gentlemen, I think we are done with sound check.”

John watched as Bobby set his guitar down and walked off the stage, then glared over at Remy. “Somehow, I don't know how, but somehow I know that this is your fault.”

Remy just burst out laughing. “It's no one's fault but your own, John.”

“You're in trouble,” Sean said teasingly, laughing when John spun around and turned his gaze to him. “Whenever Bobby is singing _Michael_ , you should know that you've fucked up.”

“I completely agree,” Kitty said, following Sean, Peter, and Scott off the stage.

“I do not have to listen to this,” John declared, walking back to the side of the stage and pulling Jubilee away from Marie. “Let's continue our earlier discussion, shall we?”

“Gladly,” Jubilee said, letting John take her hand and following him.

Marie walked out onto the stage where Remy was still messing around with a microphone. “You did that on purpose.”

“I had to get Bobby out of his mood before the gig started,” Remy said, smiling at her. “That song usually does it. Of course, usually they go back to the bus and work off the sexual tension before the gig starts, but that's not going to happen tonight. Should make the show electric, especially when we play that again.”

Marie laughed. “You manipulator.”

“Hey, I'm just doing my best to keep my band happy,” Remy said, walking over to her and wrapping her up in a hug.

“Who keeps you happy?” Marie asked, breathing in Remy's scent.

“You do,” Remy said seriously, bending down to brush his lips across the top of Marie's head. “I know you told me not to do that but I'm afraid I just can't stop.”

Marie leaned further into his embrace. “That's okay. I think I'm getting used to it again.”

“What do you want out of life, Marie?” Remy asked suddenly. “You can't just follow a band around for the rest of your life.”

“Who are you, my father?” Marie responded, pulling out of their embrace. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“I just want to know,” Remy said, looking at her sincerely. “If you could do anything in the world right now, what would you do?”

Marie thought about it for a few moments, then started to laugh. “You know what I'd do right now? At this very moment? I'd get my masters in Japanese. That's what I'd do.”

“Masters in Japanese, huh?” Remy wrapped his arm around Marie's shoulders and started walking them off the stage. “You would pick something completely odd like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite obviously did not write the lyrics to the Franz Ferdinand song 'Michael.' I only borrowed them for a little bit of fun.


	5. Chapter 5

They were backstage in Los Angeles when Jubilee tore herself away from John long enough to notice that Marie was exchanging text messages with someone on her phone. She watched silently as Marie laughed at something the other person had said, and that's when it hit her exactly who Marie was exchanging messages with. “Marie, what the fuck are you doing?”

The whole band turned their attention to the girls when Marie looked up at Jubilee, her eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don't even start with me, Jubilee.”

“You're texting him?” Jubilee said disapprovingly. “Marie, you know better than that.”

“He's in Los Angeles,” Marie said defensively. “We're going to get drinks tonight after the show.”

“Like hell you are,” Jubilee said, stalking over to where Marie was sitting and taking the phone away from her. “Do I need to remind you about everything that is wrong with Doug again? Because I will.”

“Wait,” Remy said. “You're meeting up with Doug?”

Marie couldn't meet Remy's gaze. “Yes.”

“Like hell you are,” Jubilee said. “No way, Marie. I'm not letting you anywhere near that guy.”

“I am a grown woman who can make her own decisions,” Marie said angrily. “You do not get to decide what I do with my life.”

“Marie,” Remy started, only to be interrupted by Jubilee.

“Do I need to show you the pictures of the bruises Doug gave you? Because I have them all on my phone.”

Marie looked at Jubilee like she was insane. “You kept those?”

“You better fucking believe I kept those! They could have been used as evidence if you'd ever been brave enough to press charges against the bastard.”

“There was nothing to press charges over,” Marie said quietly. “You're overreacting again.”

“No, you're back under his spell again,” Jubilee said, sitting down and grabbing Marie's hand. “I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight. Now text him back and tell him you are not meeting him for drinks.”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “He said he has things he wants to tell me in person. I want to hear him out.”

“No fucking way, Marie,” Remy said, shaking his head. “I'm with Jubilee. We're not going to let you out of our sight.”

Marie stood up and started walking towards the dressing room door. “Fuck you both.”

She walked out of the room and started heading towards her left, with absolutely no clue where she was going. She ended up at the side of the stage, and she sat down, leaning up against one of the speakers, and let the tears that were threatening begin to fall.

Deep down, she knew Jubilee was right – she was under Doug's spell again. He knew exactly how to sweet talk her into anything, and he was using that to his advantage. But she knew that he loved her, in his own way, and she missed the feeling of being in love with someone so much.

She was finally willing to admit to herself that she was lonely, even though she was spending all her time with Remy and the band. She'd been so desperately lonely during her stay in London that she'd sworn to seek out the comfort of her best friend, and now that she had him back in her life, she was doing everything she could to keep him from getting too close to her. She didn't even know why she was doing it.

Except she did know. She'd known since she was a fifteen-year-old girl who saw Remy on the first day of school. She'd felt the butterflies in her stomach that day, the nerves coursing through her when Remy came up to her and gave her a big hug. She'd wanted him ever since, but because she knew her father would never approve, she'd kept him at arm's length. And she was still doing it, even though she'd sworn to herself that her father's opinion didn't matter anymore.

“Marie?”

She looked up and saw Bobby peering down at her, concern on his face. “Hi Bobby,” she murmured, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Bobby set his guitar to the side and sat down next to her, giving her a soft smile. “You okay?”

“I don't know,” Marie said honestly. “I'm so confused.”

“Well, I know it's not my place, but from what Remy and Jubilee were just discussing in the dressing room, I feel like I should tell you that Doug sounds like a real dick.”

“I know he is,” Marie said, sniffling. “But he loves me.”

Bobby just shook his head. “No, Marie. Remy loves you. It sounds like Doug controls you.”

Marie leaned her head back against the speaker and sighed heavily. “You really think Remy loves me?”

“I know he does,” Bobby said. “He's so worried about you wanting to meet with Doug. He really wants to go with you just so he can punch this guy for ever laying a hand on you. I think the rest of the band wants to join him, to be honest.”

“I'm scared,” Marie admitted. “I thought he'd be over me by now, that we could just go back to being friends.”

“If you think about it, I think you'll find that you've never really just been friends,” Bobby said. “Remy's gone through your whole story for the band on numerous occasions. He talked about you endlessly even when you weren't around. I don't think he's ever going to get over you.”

They both jumped at the sound of someone coughing to get their attention and glanced up to see Remy standing there. “Can I talk to Marie alone, Bobby?”

“Of course,” Bobby said, giving one last smile to Marie before standing up and walking away.

“Are you alright?” Remy asked, concern evident in his voice. “I'm worried about you.”

“Sit down,” Marie said, patting the space next to her that Bobby had just vacated.

Remy did as he was told, reaching over to take Marie's hand in his. “Marie, tell me that you're not going to meet this guy. Think about how much he hurt you.”

“I don't know,” Marie said honestly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn't you ever make a move on me?” Marie practically whispered. “All those years ago.”

Remy sighed heavily and squeezed Marie's hand. “Honestly? I was afraid you'd reject me.”

“And now?”

“I'm still afraid you'll reject me,” Remy murmured. “Why would you want some soon-to-be washed up rock star when you could have your pick of the elite? Your father was pretty confident you'd be marrying an oil tycoon soon when he called me.”

“I'm not marrying an oil tycoon. My father has no idea what makes me happy,” Marie said, shaking her head. “He never has.”

“So what makes you happy then?”

Marie could hear the nerves in Remy's voice, and she looked over at him. “You do.”

Remy looked up at her and saw the smile that was crossing Marie's face. “You make me happy too.”

“I know you don't want me to do this, but,” Marie started, but Remy interrupted her.

“But nothing. Tell me you're not going to meet Doug,” Remy said. “Please.”

Marie just shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Marie, please don't.”

“Remy! Soundcheck!”

“I'll think about it,” Marie said, standing up and heading off the stage as the rest of the band started walking on to it. 

“Marie! Come on!” Remy called out, but Marie just kept on walking.

**********

Marie walked into the bar that Doug had picked out, looking around for her former fiancé. She spotted him at a table near the back and made her way to it, taking a deep breath as she approached the table. “Hello, Doug.”

“Marie,” Doug said, standing up. “You look incredible.”

“Thank you,” Marie said, sitting down after Doug had pulled out her chair for her.

“I'm so glad you agreed to meet me,” he said as he sat back down. “I wasn't sure if you would. I've already gotten you a drink.”

Marie smiled as Doug pushed a glass of whiskey in front of her. “Well, at least you remember that correctly.”

“I remember a lot more than that,” Doug said. “God, Marie, I was such a fool.”

Marie picked up the glass and sipped at it. “I think I was the fool, Doug.”

“No, it was definitely me,” Doug said, turning his glass of beer around in circles. “I never should have left you.”

Marie sighed and took another sip of her drink. “For what it's worth, I'm extremely glad I didn't marry you.”

“But we make such a great team,” Doug said, reaching across the table and clutching Marie's hand. “Marie, you cannot deny the chemistry we share.”

“Oh, yes I can,” Marie said, pulling her hand away from Doug. “It's all a lie, Doug. Everything between us was a lie.”

Doug shook his head and waved down a waitress. “Can we get the lady another whiskey? Thank you.”

“I do not need another drink,” Marie said.

“Yes, you do, love. You're clearly not drunk enough to listen yet.”

“Do not call me that,” Marie said, setting her glass down on the table. “And why do I need to be drunk to listen? I think you just don't like what it is I'm saying.”

The sound of people talking in the bar suddenly got much louder, and Marie looked behind her to see The Mutants filing into the bar, Jubilee, Darwin, Hank, and a host of bodyguards right behind them. Marie sighed inwardly, knowing the only reason the band was in this bar was that she was there with Doug. She caught Remy's eye as they made their way further inside, and all Remy did was smile back at her.

“Marie, love,” Doug said, drawing her attention back on him. “I've already spoken with your father. He agrees that our engagement should be back on.”

“What?” Marie exclaimed, staring at Doug like he was insane. “You actually think that I still want to marry you?”

“A better situation for you is not going to come along,” Doug said, smiling at the waitress when she sat the new glass of whiskey on the table. “You know that I'm the best you're ever going to get. You can only dream of someone better. I mean, there are few people in the world with enough money to match my family's.”

Marie took a moment to keep herself from reaching out and slapping Doug, then picked up the full glass of whiskey and threw it in his face. “You listen to me, you bastard. You are nothing to me. I don't give a fuck about how much money you have, what my father thinks, or whatever scenario you thought was going to play out tonight. I never want to see or hear from you again, Doug. Is that understood?”

“Marie, honestly,” Doug said, reaching for a napkin. “You know what you're giving up here. You know you're making a big mistake.”

Marie's breath caught in her throat before she forced herself to stand up. “No. I'm really not. Fuck you, Doug.”

Marie walked away from the table and headed for the exit. She walked straight past where The Mutants and their friends were sitting and went out into the warm night. She didn't know where she was or what direction to go in so she just started walking. Anything to get away from where Doug was. What had she been thinking in agreeing to meet with him? 

What had she been thinking in even _talking_ to him?

She heard her name being called out behind her, but she didn't stop walking, didn't turn around to see who it was. She just had to get out of there. After walking several blocks, she felt a hand close around her elbow, and she spun around, fully prepared to give Doug the slap he really deserved when she noticed it wasn't Doug, but Remy.

“Marie,” he said, breathing heavily. “You walk really fast.”

“I didn't know it was you,” Marie said, letting Remy pull her into an embrace. “I thought it was Doug.”

Remy held her close and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “He's not here, Marie. It's just me.”

They stood there for a few minutes before Marie looked up at Remy and smiled. “Kiss me,” she murmured, sighing happily when Remy bent down and brought their lips together. She wrapped her arms around Remy's neck and pulled him closer, losing herself in the kiss. Remy's hands slid down her back and then wrapped around her waist, holding her the way he'd always wanted to. 

They eventually broke apart and Marie rested her heard on Remy's shoulder. “We should have done that a really long time ago.”

“I agree with that,” Remy said, holding Marie closer. “We'll just have to do it a lot to make up for lost time.”

“I never should have met him,” she murmured. “I should have listened to you and Jubilee.”

“I think you needed closure,” Remy said. “I think you needed one last reminder of what a fucking dick he is.”

Marie slapped at Remy's shoulder, shaking her head. “You don't even know him.”

“I don't need to,” Remy pointed out. “Jubilee's told me enough about him for me to know that if I ever see him again, I'm probably going to get myself arrested for assault.”

Marie pulled back. “You are not,” she said sternly. “But I am never going to see him again.”

“Good,” Remy said, glancing behind him to see Hank and one of the bodyguards standing a few blocks away, monitoring the situation. “Back to the bar? Or to the hotel?”

“Bar,” Marie said, smoothing down the front of her dress. “I need whiskey.”

“What if he hasn't left?”

“Then he gets to see me moving on with a fucking rock star,” Marie said, linking her hand with Remy's. “Come on, I know you guys only came to the bar because I was there, but you might as well enjoy it.”

Remy smiled at her and they turned around, heading back towards the bar. “I'll enjoy it a lot more now that you'll be sitting with us instead of with that bastard.”

“Just stop talking about him,” Marie said, smiling at Hank and the bodyguard she still didn't know the name of as they approached. “Sorry, guys. I'm sure you didn't want to follow him so far away from the bar.”

“It's fine,” Hank said, starting to walk with them back towards the bar. “It's my job to follow Remy when he goes running after a beautiful woman.”

Remy groaned as Marie laughed. “So this is not the first time you've had to do this.”

“Oh no,” Hank said, smiling at her. “Remy likes to chase beautiful women.”

“Well, hopefully, I won't be having to chase after any more,” Remy said, squeezing Marie's hand. “I've finally got the one I want.”

Marie smiled at him and let Remy wrap an arm around her shoulders. This was going to be a good thing, she told herself. Remy was a good thing.

**********

“I think Bobby is starting to hate Jubilee,” Remy said, looking over at Marie. “He hasn't been able to sleep in his hotel room for three weeks.”

“I know,” Marie said, glancing to the other side of the dressing room to see Jubilee and John flirting with each other yet again. “I can't tell her to stop without telling her about Bobby and John though, and then she'll ask John, and he'll deny it, and we'd be right back where we started.”

“He's told Darwin to get him another hotel room tonight since he can't crash with Scott since Jean's here, and he can't crash with Sean because Moira's here, and he can't crash with Peter since Crystal's here, and crashing with Kitty is something that makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want to disrupt either one of us either.”

Marie turned her attention to Remy. “Do they think we're sleeping together?”

“Probably,” Remy said quietly.

“And you haven't bothered correcting them?” Marie inquired.

“No,” Remy said sheepishly. “I mean, it's going to happen, so why not just let them think it already has.”

“What happened to you not wanting to besmirch my honor?”

Remy laughed. “I did promise you that, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did,” Marie said seriously. “I'm not sleeping with you, Remy.”

Remy looked at her with some concern. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “It's not you. It's me. I'm really, really far away from wanting to have sex with you. If you can't handle that in the meantime, then have at it with the groupies.”

“Marie, I'm not going to mess around with groupies now that we're together.”

“We are not together,” Marie declared. “We are exchanging kisses. That is it.”

Hurt flared up in Remy's eyes, and Marie leaned forward and kissed him softly. “You've got to give me time, Remy. I'm not ready for a relationship.”

“Fine, we're not together. What we're doing means nothing,” Remy said, pulling away from her and standing up. “I'm going to go find Bobby.”

“Remy, don't,” Marie said as he started to walk away.

“No, Marie,” Remy said, not turning around to face her. “This is what you want. Not what I want. Just remember that.”

Marie sighed as Remy slammed the dressing room door shut and Jubilee looked over at her. “Are you fucking things up already, Marie?”

“I am not fucking things up,” Marie said bitterly. “I am trying to keep things from becoming fucked up.”

Jubilee just sighed and shook her head. “Which means you're thinking and therefore fucking things up. Why can't you just let yourself feel, Marie?”

“Because the last time I did that, I got hurt,” Marie said, standing up and walking towards the dressing room door. “Hurt badly in a lot of different ways.”

She walked out of the dressing room and found herself face to face with Peter and Crystal. Before she could say anything, Peter smiled and pointed to the right. “Remy is on the stage with Bobby.”

“Thanks Peter,” Marie said, walking off in that direction. She heard their voices as she got closer to the stage, and she decided not to interrupt them, instead standing off to the side of the stage.

“Please, Bobby, please help me,” Remy was saying. “This song has to be perfect.”

“You're a perfectly capable songwriter. Just fucking write it.”

“I can't,” Remy said, a pleading tone to his voice. “I've tried.”

“Then keep trying,” Bobby said, playing a few notes on his guitar. “I've got my own songs that I'm working on.”

Remy sighed heavily. “She doesn't want to be with me.”

“Did she say that?”

“More or less.”

“What did she say?”

“She said we're not together. We're just exchanging kisses. She's not ready for a relationship.”

Bobby played a few more notes. “That doesn't sound like a 'fuck no, it's never going to happen.' It sounds like 'slow the fuck down, I need some time.'”

“I have waited half my life for this,” Remy said. “Now I have to give her time?”

“If you want her, you will give her time,” Bobby said. “It's that simple.”

“Is that why you let John get away with all the shit he gets away with?”

The sound of some badly played notes echoed through the air, and then Bobby sighed. “Let's just say that it's been made clear to me that John and I have no future together. So he gets to do whatever, or whoever, the fuck he wants.”

“Even though that hurts?”

“I've always known that I'm more invested in this than John is,” Bobby said. “I've always known that I'm the one who's going to get hurt. Marie's not trying to hurt you. She's trying to protect herself. I mean, if her last relationship was with that Doug guy, then I think it's safe to say that she got really fucking hurt and she's still trying to piece herself back together. She can't give herself over to you until that's happened.”

“If you think I didn't notice that you just changed the subject back to me, you're wrong.” Remy groaned and leaned up against an amplifier. “You still won't help me with the song?”

“It'll mean more if you write it yourself,” Bobby said. “Besides, you've written gorgeous songs about her. It shouldn't be hard to write another one.”

“Fine,” Remy said, walking over to the piano and sitting down. “I'll try.”

Marie decided that she'd heard enough and walked away. She made her way back into the dressing room and sat down on the sofa, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Jubilee was right. She was fucking everything up.


	6. Chapter 6

_Come nightfall, I'll be on my way to you_  
_Come nightfall, you'll know that I am true_  
_When the sun fades away below the horizon_  
_That's when I'll come to show you how I feel_  
_We'll sit in your backyard beneath the stars_  
_And I'll tell you all the things I want to_  
_And as night falls, we'll fall in love again_

"I love this song," Jean said as Kitty sang, her eyes glued on Scott. "Another Remy LeBeau gem."

Marie nearly choked on her drink. "Remy wrote this?"

"Well, Remy and Bobby, but Remy wrote the lyrics," Jean said, looking over at her. "Are you alright, sweetie? You look kind of pale."

"I'm fine," Marie said, exchanging glances with Jubilee as Jean turned her attention back to the stage.

"Exactly how many songs has Remy written about you?" Jubilee whispered.

"I don't know," Marie said honestly. "But I'm starting to think that it's a lot."

_Come nightfall, we can get lost together_  
_Come nightfall, this dance we're doing can come to an end_  
_All you have to do is trust me_  
_I promise that you won't regret it_  
_We'll sit in your backyard beneath the stars_  
_And I'll tell you all the things I want to_  
_And as night falls, we'll fall in love again_

Bobby's guitar solo started as Kitty pulled away from the microphone, and Remy looked over at Marie and flashed her a smile. Marie returned it shakily, quickly bringing her drink to her lips. She took a long sip and then forced herself to take a deep breath. She was not going to get caught up in the emotions she was feeling. 

_Come nightfall, we'll be together forever_  
_Come nightfall, everything will fall into place_  
_We'll sit in your backyard beneath the stars_  
_And I'll tell you all the things I want to_  
_And as night falls, we'll fall in love again_

Marie turned away from the stage and started walking towards the dressing room, Jubilee following moments later.

"Marie?"

By the time Marie made it into the dressing room, the tears were flowing down her cheeks. Jubilee took one look at her and wrapped her up in her arms. "Marie, what is it?"

"I can't do this," Marie sobbed. "I just can't do this."

Jubilee held her closer. "Marie, listen to me. You can do this. You've got to trust someone again. He's a great guy, honey. He's completely and totally in love with you."

"He's in love with an idea," Marie cried. "He doesn't know me anymore."

"Then let him get to know you," Jubilee said calmly. "Let him fall in love with who you are now."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"That's the risk we all take," Jubilee murmured. "I can't guarantee you that he won't hurt you. But I'd say it's a very safe guess that he won't."

"I'm so lonely, Jubilee," Marie said, sniffling as she tried to stop crying. "And I'm sick of being someone I'm not."

"Then be yourself," Jubilee said, reaching up to brush the tears off Marie's face. "If he can't love you, then he's an idiot who doesn't deserve you."

Marie sniffled again, then turned around and searched for her bag. "God, I probably look terrible now."

"No, you don't."

Marie pulled a compact out of her bag and opened it, taking in her reflection. "Fuck, Jubilee, don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Jubilee said, pulling the compact out of Marie's hands and tossing it back in her bag. "Come here. I'll fix your makeup, and by the time the guys get back here after the show, no one will know any different."

Marie gave her a shaky smile. "Thank you."

"Anything for my best friend," Jubilee said, pointing at the sofa. "Sit down. Do you want another drink? You could probably use one."

"I need something stronger than a drink," Marie admitted. 

"Well, I'm sure we can find that somewhere around here," Jubilee said. "You let me handle that, okay?"

Marie just nodded as she sat down on the sofa, wishing she could just rewind to a decade earlier and fix all the mistakes she'd made. But she couldn't, and no amount of wishing was going to change that.

By the time Jubilee had handed her a fresh drink, Marie had nearly convinced herself that it would all be okay.

**********

"Telling Remy should be easy," Marie said as she looked into the mirror. "All I have to do is knock on his door and say, 'Hello Remy. I have a recreational drug problem and I'm probably an alcoholic.' That's it. Then I can walk away."

"I wouldn't suggest going about it that way," Jubilee said from where she was lounging on the bed. "He's obviously going to have questions."

"That doesn't mean I have to answer them," Marie said weakly, lighting up another joint.

"It does if you want to have any kind of relationship with him," Jubilee pointed out. "I don't think he's going to freak out, but you never know. I obviously don't know him as well as you do."

"Have I thanked you for getting me this yet?" Marie murmured, taking a long drag from the joint. "Because thank you, Jubilee."

"Don't thank me, thank Sean," Jubilee said. "He's the one who knew where to get it."

"Sean?" Marie exclaimed, turning around to look at Jubilee. "Are you serious?"

"Totally serious," Jubilee said. "I asked John and he told me to ask Sean. So I asked Sean, and he told me exactly where to go, exactly who to ask for, and exactly how much it would be."

"Speaking of which, let me pay you back," Marie said, reaching for her bag. 

"Not a chance," Jubilee said, sitting up. "You're paying for me to be traveling around with the band. The least I can do is pay for your weed."

"Share it with me then," Marie said, holding out the joint in Jubilee's direction. "Come on."

Jubilee stood up and made her way over to Marie, taking the joint and having a drag off it. "Not too much for me. I want to be able to have sex with John tonight."

"What is going on with you two anyway?" Marie asked, taking the joint back and collapsing down on her bed. "I want to know."

Jubilee sighed and leaned up against the shelving unit the television was sitting on. "I'm not sure, actually. We talk a lot. We have a lot in common. We have really good sex. But it's almost like he's not totally interested in me."

"That's 'cause he's not," Marie said before slapping her hand over her mouth. "Shit, the weed is making my tongue loose."

"Tell me," Jubilee demanded.

"It's just that I know that he's got a thing going on with someone else," Marie said, trying to keep from saying who that other person was. "I don't know how seriously he takes it though because he's obviously interested enough in you to be sleeping with you."

"Hm," Jubilee murmured. "I was wondering if he had a girl back in New York or something. Really doesn't surprise me. He's quite the catch."

"You're just saying that because he's your favorite rock star."

"No, I'm saying that because he's a really nice guy," Jubilee said, walking over to the bed and taking the joint again. "Like, nicer than I was expecting. I was expecting an asshole to be perfectly honest. He talks about all kinds of interesting things and he's always worried about Bobby. In fact, I was telling him that I was thinking we should set Bobby up with Theresa."

"What?" Marie said, staring up at Jubilee as she smoked the joint. "Bobby and Theresa?"

"You know she would fall for Bobby in a second," Jubilee said, handing it back to Marie. "She's so jealous that you asked me here and not her."

"I should have told you not to tell Theresa," Marie said, sighing. "I'll talk to Remy about it, see if he will agree to another of my friends hanging out."

"So you are going to talk to Remy. Good."

"Not tonight," Marie said, taking another drag off the joint. "He took three groupies back to his room."

"Three?"

"Three," Marie confirmed. "He certainly didn't seem to care about this relationship he thinks we have."

"Maybe that's because you all but told him to fuck off earlier," Jubilee pointed out. "You really fucked this up."

"Are you just going to stay in here and tell me off about Remy all night?"

"I'm waiting for John to text me. He said he had some band stuff to do with Bobby first."

Marie let out a laugh at just what sort of 'band stuff' John and Bobby were probably up to. "What are you going to do after he texts you?"

"Probably drink in the hotel bar until we can't take our hands off each other, then race back up to the room and have sex all night," Jubilee said, a huge grin on her face. "If there's one thing I can say about him, it's that he's got some stamina."

"I really didn't need to know that," Marie said, closing her eyes as she took another drag. "You know what happens when I think about having sex with Remy? I remember him as a six-year-old."

Jubilee burst out laughing. "I bet that would change if you saw him naked."

"I'm afraid I'd just start laughing if I saw him naked," Marie said. "God, this is why people who have been friends as long as we have should not hook up."

"Don't think that way. You've got to at least give him a fair chance. And to do that, you've got to tell him everything."

Marie opened her eyes and propped herself up so she could look at Jubilee. "I really don't want to. He's going to be so disappointed in me."

"Marie, no one is disappointed in you," Jubilee said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Well, except for your father, but who gives a fuck about him."

"My father is one of the most influential businessmen in this country. He can't have his baby girl going around doing drugs and being a drunk," Marie stressed. "How is no one disappointed in me but my fucked up father?"

"Because we all know that what your father says is bullshit," Jubilee said firmly. "Do you know how many influential people in this country have children that are way, way worse than what he perceives you to be? Because it's a lot."

"I know," Marie said softly. "I just...Christ, I've let myself get so fucked up, Jubilee."

"Have you been talking about this with your therapist?" Jubilee asked.

"Do you think I actually went to therapy?" Marie asked, laughing when Jubilee's eyes widened. "Don't be so surprised."

"That's supposed to help you be not so fucked up," Jubilee said, reaching out and taking away the joint. "You're not doing the things that are supposed to help you, Marie. Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," Marie said, taking the joint back as Jubilee's phone started beeping.

Jubilee checked the message quickly. "That's John. Are you going to be okay if I leave you here?"

"I'll be fine," Marie said, bringing the joint to her lips. "I'll just be getting high and passing out soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay then," Jubilee said, standing up. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Enjoy your night!"

**********

It took Marie a few moments to realize someone was knocking at her hotel room door, but once she did, she got up and staggered over to it. After getting the locks undone, she opened it and found herself face to face with Remy.

"Marie, can we talk?"

Marie stared at him for a minute. "Aren't you supposed to be frolicking naked with three women in your hotel room?"

"I invited them up for drinks and conversation and just sent them on their way," Remy said seriously. "May I please come in so we can talk?"

Marie moved away and let Remy inside, leaning heavily on the door to close it. "What is there to talk about?"

"I shouldn't have gotten up and walked away from you this afternoon," Remy said, his eyes catching the bag of weed and stack of papers on the table. "Are you smoking pot?"

"Yes," Marie said, collapsing back on the bed. "Don't lecture me."

"I wasn't going to," Remy said, turning towards her. "I was going to ask if I could have some."

Marie looked up at him. "You smoke too? Have at it."

"Not very often," Remy said, sitting down at the table and grabbing one of the rolling papers. "I smoke every once and awhile with Sean while we're on the road, but I prefer to keep my mind clear most of the time."

Marie laughed. "Well, that makes telling you about my recreational drug problem a little easier."

"You do anything other than smoke?" Remy asked, rolling his joint and bringing it up to his lips so he could lick the paper shut. 

"Cocaine on occasion," Marie murmured. "Really could have gone for that tonight but Jubilee was only able to get me this."

Remy picked up the lighter and lit up. "Ask Sean next time. He does coke on occasion too."

"I think Jubilee did ask Sean about this. That's what I remember her saying anyway."

"She with John again?"

"Of course."

Remy took a long drag off his joint and sighed. "Good shit."

"Yes, it is," Marie said, reaching for the ashtray where she had put her own joint. "So what do you want to talk about, Remy?"

Remy took another drag off the joint then stood up, making his way over to the bed and collapsing onto it next to Marie. "I'm not sure we should talk while we're on this."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Remy, it's just some weed," Marie said, rolling onto her side to face him. "This might be the only way I can tell you what I need to tell you, to be honest."

Remy blew smoke up into the air and then turned to look at her. "What do you have to tell me that you didn't this afternoon?"

Marie took a long drag off of her joint. "Alright, I'm just going to say it and then you can ask questions. I have a recreational drug problem, and I'm probably an alcoholic. The only reason I found out I had cancer was that Doug threw me down some stairs the week before he broke it off and I landed on my shoulder really hard and it burned instead of just hurting like it normally did. That turned out to be a tumor. That was not the first nor the last time he hit me. To be perfectly honest with you, I wish I had died because I don't like life and I haven't for a very long time, but I think that if I could just get myself to trust you completely, I might start to like life and myself again. There."

Marie rolled onto her back and took another drag off her joint, listening to the awkward silence that hung in the air between them. After a few minutes of it, she sighed heavily. "Say something, Remy."

Remy took a long drag off his joint. "Bloody fucking hell. How the fuck did you ever get mixed up with Doug? He sounds like a motherfucking asshole."

"My father suggested that I spend a semester at Trinity College Dublin," Marie said. "I met Doug there. He was also on an exchange. We started dating, and then I went back to Georgetown to finish university, and when I was done with that, I moved back to New York to be with him. That's when he turned into a monster."

"And your father still thinks it's best that you be with him?"

"My father doesn't know about a lot of this," Marie murmured. "I've never told him about most of it."

Remy suddenly shifted around until he was hovering over Marie, staring down at her. "Did you think I was going to hate you over this?"

"I didn't know what you were going to think," Marie whispered. "But I didn't think it was going to be good. I thought it would change your opinion of me in an unfavorable manner."

Remy set his joint in the ashtray and plucked Marie's out of her hand, doing the same with it. Then he lowered himself onto her gently, bringing their lips together in a deep, lingering kiss. Pulling away after a few moments, Remy looked down at Marie with absolute sincerity.

"Marie, there's absolutely nothing you could tell me that would make me not love you."

"Not even if I told you I murdered your mother?"

Remy chuckled. "You would never do that, but no, I suspect not even then."

"Say it then," Marie demanded. "Let me hear you say it."

Remy pressed their lips together briefly, then pulled away. "I love you, Marie. I've loved you for so long I don't even know how long it's been. It's like I woke up one morning and realized my best friend was my world. This decade away from you, it killed me."

"It killed me too," Marie whispered, pushing Remy over onto his back and climbing on top of him. "Do you know how long I've been keeping myself from falling for you?"

Remy had that brilliant grin of his across his face. "You're falling for me?"

"Of course I am," Marie said, stealing a quick kiss. "Have been since I was fifteen. I just knew my father would never approve, so I kept my distance, even when I could tell that you were falling for me. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."

"And what about your father now?" Remy asked.

"I don't give a fuck," Marie said, bending down for a hard kiss. 

"That's my Marie," Remy said, sliding his hands underneath Marie's t-shirt. 

Marie groaned as Remy's hands slid up her back, arching into his touch. "I can't have sex with you yet."

"That's okay," Remy said, kissing her again. "I can wait."

"You're really okay with this?" Marie asked as Remy pulled her shirt up and over her head, leaving her sitting there in her bra and skirt. "The drugs and alcohol?"

"I'm in a band, Marie. Drugs and alcohol are kind of part of it," Remy said, pulling Marie down to him and kissing along her neck. "Besides, are we not smoking weed together right now?"

"I don't know what we're doing right now," Marie admitted, leaning into Remy's touch. "But God, don't stop."

"I'm undressing you," Remy murmured. "Just down to your underwear. Then I'm going to strip down to mine, and we're going to get in bed, finish off these joints, and get some sleep. Sound good?"

Marie could barely concentrate with the way Remy's hands were sliding over her skin. "Amazing."

Marie felt his hands slide down to her skirt and she rolled off of him and the bed, standing up and letting her skirt drop to the floor. "Get your clothes off."

Remy scrambled off the bed and stripped down to his boxer briefs, then grabbed Marie around the waist and pulled her flush against him, kissing her deeply. Marie let him for a few minutes before she reached up and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Into bed, Remy. I want to finish my joint."

Remy shifted around as Marie pulled the bedding out from under him, then she joined him underneath it. Remy reached over to the ashtray and got their joints, giving Marie hers before taking a long drag off his own.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Marie asked in between drags.

"Of course I am," Remy replied, pulling Marie closer. "You're going to have a hard time getting me out of your bed now that I've gotten into it."

Marie blew out some smoke and turned to kiss him. "Good."


	7. Chapter 7

“I want to go for a walk,” Marie said as she stared out the window of Remy's Austin hotel room. “I suppose you can't do that.”

Remy walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I think I can probably get away with it if I wear a hat.”

Marie spun around in his embrace and smiled. “Then let's go.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Marie said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. “Come on, Remy, please?”

“Let me get my hat!”

Marie waited impatiently by the door as Remy fished a baseball cap out of his suitcase and then they were walking out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. Hank was standing there and he took one look at the baseball cap before shaking his head. 

“No.”

“Hank, come on,” Remy pleaded. “Marie wants to go for a walk.”

“Then Marie can,” Hank said firmly. “But you are not leaving this hotel until it's time to head to the venue this afternoon.”

“No one is going to know it's me!”

“I will know it's you,” Hank said, moving to block the elevator buttons. “And Erik is mad enough at you already.”

Remy gave Hank a confused look. “Why is Erik mad at me?”

“You haven't looked at your phone yet this morning, have you?”

Remy pulled the device out of his pocket, noticing that he had several messages. “Christ, Erik. What the fuck could he be so mad at me for?”

“They got pictures of you and Marie in Los Angeles,” Hank filled in as Remy started reading through the messages. “They were able to identify her as well.”

Remy turned around and started walking back to his hotel room, leaving Marie standing there with Hank. “I take it this is bad, Hank?”

“Let's just say Erik is less than happy,” Hank said. “And Remy is now on a very tight leash for the rest of this tour.”

“Great,” Marie murmured. “Thanks, Hank.”

Hank shrugged. “Just doing my job, Marie.”

Marie turned around and walked down to Remy's hotel room, knocking on the door gently. “Remy? May I come in?”

Remy opened the door a moment later, a mixture of fear and anger on his face. “I've got it up on my laptop. Fucking snaps.”

Marie walked into the room and over to where Remy's laptop was on the table, sitting down and scrolling through the article and looking at the pictures. “Fuck, they got us kissing?”

“Yes,” Remy said, collapsing onto the bed. “Our intimate, private moment is now all over the internet.”

Marie read through the article, determining that they had to have spoken to someone who knew her history with Remy because the article talked about how they'd known each other since they were children. “I wonder who they talked to.”

“It doesn't really matter,” Remy sighed. “It's done. It's out there. Our relationship is no longer ours.”

“We technically don't have a relationship,” Marie pointed out, turning around in the chair to look at him. “You can just tell Erik to announce that.”

“No,” Remy said, running his hands over his face. “I'm not lying to my fans. And yes, we technically have a relationship.”

“I'm not arguing with you about our nonexistent relationship,” Marie said, standing up and walking over to the bed, sitting down on its edge. “And what's wrong with lying to your fans? Rock stars do that all the time.”

“I promised myself that if I ever fell in love with a woman, I wasn't going to lie to the fans about it,” Remy said, taking Marie's hand in his. “I know that we have a lot of female fans who are going to be very disappointed to learn that I'm off the market, but they've adjusted to Jean, Crystal, and Moira, they can adjust to you too.”

“If that's the way you want it,” Marie sighed. “I guess I can be okay with that. My father is going to freak out though. You're still not good enough for his baby girl.”

Remy pulled Marie down and kissed her softly. “I think I can handle your father. Besides, I thought you didn't care.”

“I don't care,” Marie said, kissing him again. “He will probably speak to the press though. It's not just you that the media is going to close in on. I somehow end up in tabloids every month when I'm not even trying to.”

Remy laughed. “The socialite and the rock star. We're going to be quite the pair, aren't we?”

“We always have been,” Marie said, smiling. “I think that Hank is right. We shouldn't risk it right now.”

“I know you're right, but now I really want to go for a walk with you. I want to show the world just how much I care about you.”

Marie shifted around so she was straddling him, then reached down and pulled her shirt off. “How about you start by showing me, hm?”

Remy looked up at her and grinned. “I can do that.”

“No sex,” Marie warned, bending down to kiss him. “But I'm sure you can come up with something else to make our time worthwhile.”

“I'm sure I can,” Remy said, capturing Marie's lips in a heated kiss. He rolled Marie over so she was underneath him and started trailing kisses down her neck, sliding his arms along her sides. He had just slid his arms underneath her to unhook her bra when his phone started to ring, and he groaned from frustration. “That's Erik. I've got to answer it.”

Marie kissed him one more time before Remy crawled off of her, reaching for his phone. While Remy tried to get a word in between Erik's long monologues, Marie reached down and took off her skirt, throwing it so that it landed on Remy's head. Remy plucked it off of him and turned to look at her, sighing happily at the sight before him. He pulled the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, crawling back on top of Marie and kissing her firmly.

“...one rule, Remy. I gave you one fucking rule. Don't get photographed with the lady friend. And you told me that shouldn't be a problem. And yet here I am, staring at photographs of you and the lady friend. Do you even listen to a word I say? Or is it your goal in life to make mine more miserable? You listen to me and you listen well. You're not going to be out of Hank's sight for the rest of this tour. You don't get to go out exploring. You don't get to wine and dine the lady friend. You don't get to see anything but the inside of the bus, the inside of the venue, and the inside of the hotels. Do I make myself clear?”

Remy pulled away from Marie briefly. “Yes!”

Marie laughed as Remy started sucking at the skin along her collarbone, and Erik groaned through the phone.

“Are you with the lady friend right now?”

When Remy didn't answer, Erik started yelling again.

“I swear to God, you fuck up again, Remy, and I am going to be on a plane to wherever you are so fast you can barely blink! You're not even listening to me! You're too busy fucking the lady friend!”

Remy pulled himself away from Marie and reached for the phone. “Yes, and you're interrupting me. Goodbye, Erik.”

He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, smiling down at Marie. “Now, where were we?”

**********

_She's beautiful standing there, leaning up against the bar_  
 _Among the darkness, she shines just like a star_  
 _In a form-fitting dress that hugs her curves just right_  
 _Making me want to hold her in my arms so tight_  
 _Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_  
 _Get drunk on each other as we dance away the night_  
 _Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_  
 _Get her drunk on me, loved up on me alright_  
 _Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_

Marie and Jubilee were dancing with each other at the side of the stage, enjoying the dulcet tone of Remy's voice as he sang _Dizzy Up The Girl._ Hank was standing there with them, laughing as Marie spun Jubilee around.

“You girls are having fun tonight.”

Marie and Jubilee just descended into a fit of giggles.

“I think we may have had too much, Marie,” Jubilee finally said, grabbing at Marie and spinning her around. “We're giddy.”

Hank watched them for a few moments before reaching out to steady Marie as she lost her balance. “Maybe what I should be asking is what you girls are on tonight?”

“Ecstasy!” Jubilee called out, spinning around. “Purple butterflies!”

Hank sighed and let go of Marie. “And where did you two get that?”

“A woman never tells,” Marie said, bringing her finger up to her lips and shushing Hank. “But we got it from Sean.”

“Sean's doing ecstasy now?” Hank sighed again, looking out at the rhythmic guitarist. “He's getting more and more into the drug scene. I think it's Moira's doing. God only knows what those models are always on.”

_Spot her on the dance floor moving her hips to the song_  
_Make my way through the crowd as she starts to sing along_  
_Catch her eye and drag her away from the guy she's with_  
_Wrap my hands around her waist and pull her as close as I can_  
_Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_  
_Get drunk on each other as we dance away the night_  
_Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_  
_Get her drunk on me, loved up on me alright_  
_Oh, I'm gonna dizzy up the girl, dizzy up the girl tonight_

Marie turned around and grabbed her glass of whiskey off the piece of equipment it was sitting on, downing half of it in one sip. “Hank, you should be having more fun!”

“I'm working,” Hank replied, moving around to a spot where he could see if the guitar that Bobby needed for the next song was on stage. “I'm also keeping an eye on you two.”

“We don't need to be watched!” Jubilee exclaimed. “We're only dancing!”

“Sorry, ladies, but this is Erik's orders. And since he's the one that signs my paycheck, he gets listened to.” Hank looked behind him as Marie slammed her drink back down on the equipment. “I'm not sure you should be drinking on top of the ecstasy.”

“Too late,” Marie said, turning back to the show and watching as Remy and Bobby leaned up against each other, singing along to the bridge of the song. “I've had a lot to drink today. It didn't start out very well.”

“Marie got a proper yell from her father,” Jubilee called out, reaching for her friend. “Then she got some proper comfort from her boyfriend.”

“I don't have a boyfriend!” Marie said, spinning Jubilee around. “I have a Remy!”

“Same thing!”

“No, it's not!”

“Please, you know _People_ is preparing a feature about you two as we speak.”

“They may be,” Marie said, leaning up against Hank. “But that doesn't make Remy my boyfriend.”

“What do you think, Hank?” Jubilee asked, prompting Hank to hold up his hands. 

“I don't have opinions on things like this.”

“Oh come on, Hank,” Jubilee pleaded. “Wouldn't you call what Remy and Marie are up to at least a relationship?”

“I am staying out of this,” Hank said, prompting Marie to pat him on the chest.

“You're a good man, Hank,” Marie said, turning to look at Jubilee. “If anyone has a relationship, it's you!”

Jubilee shook her head. “John and I are a tour fling. We've already decided that.”

“Shame,” Marie said, pushing herself back upright. “Make sure you get in a threesome with Bobby before it's over.”

Hank's head whipped around as Marie's eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” Marie said, shaking her head. “I said absolutely nothing.”

Jubilee looked at them, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Hank and Marie said at the same time.

Jubilee stared at them for a moment, then turned her gaze to the stage where John and Bobby were pressed against one another as they played their guitars. “Are you trying to tell me that John and Bobby...” she trailed off.

Marie walked over to Jubilee and put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “No one can know.”

“Why didn't John just tell me?”

“Because John refuses to admit that it's happening,” Hank filled in. “Don't bring it up with him. Just pretend you don't know.”

“Is that why Bobby doesn't like me?” Jubilee asked.

Marie was nodding before she could stop herself. “Kinda?”

“Oh my God!” Jubilee exclaimed, slapping at Marie's shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“It's not my place to!” Marie said. “They haven't even admitted it to me! Remy's the one who told me.”

“Well that changes a number of things,” Jubilee said, suddenly sounding very sober. “Such as my plans to hook Theresa up with Bobby.”

“Oh no, still do that,” Hank said, looking over at her. “I think Erik would really appreciate having girls around to deflect any curiosity into the relationship that John and Bobby may or may not have.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Marie said, looking over at Jubilee. “I talked to Remy and Theresa is going to meet us in Nashville.”

“Well, we're going to have to tell her about John and Bobby,” Jubilee said, causing Marie to sigh. 

“No.”

“How am I supposed to hook her up with Bobby without telling her that Bobby is hooking up with John?” Jubilee exclaimed. “That's not fair!”

“The fewer people that know about Bobby and John, the better,” Hank said, looking over at them. “You can't tell anybody. Besides, Bobby is a stand-up guy. If he sees something in this friend of yours, he'll either end it with John or tell her himself.”

“That's the way it's got to be,” Marie said, making sure to lower her voice as the song came to an end. “Jubilee, just drop it, okay?”

Jubilee sighed and reached for her drink. “Fine. I'll drop it. But I'm asking John about it later.”

“He'll just deny it,” Hank said, turning his gaze back to the stage.

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Jubilee murmured.

**********

“Erik is going to kill us,” John exclaimed as they walked into the dressing room, dropping down into a chair and sighing heavily. “Where the fuck did that journalist get off by asking Kitty if she found me sexy? And why the fuck did you answer her, Bobby, instead of letting Kitty do it?”

Bobby just shook his head as he sat down on the sofa. “I could tell the moment it was asked that it made Kitty uncomfortable so I jumped in like we always do when Kitty gets asked an uncomfortable question. And what I said was a joke. Erik will see it like that and that will be the end of it.”

Jubilee, who was standing at the back of the room with Marie, leaned over to her and whispered, “See, there's nothing going on between them. John swore it to me.”

“John lied,” Marie whispered back, smiling at Remy as he made his way over to her. “Hey, you.”

“Hello yourself,” Remy said, swooping in for a kiss. “John is freaking out about Bobby again.”

“I kind of noticed,” Marie murmured, glancing over at Jubilee. “Jubilee believed him when he swore there was nothing going on between them.”

“What did he swear on, Bobby's virtue?” Remy asked, laughing. “Seriously, he lies about it so much.”

“Bobby, would you listen to yourself please? You practically told the journalist about our relationship!” John yelled, standing up and stalking out of the room, brushing past Scott and Sean in the process.

“Did he just say what I think he just said?” Sean asked, looking at Scott for confirmation.

“I believe he did just reference his relationship with Bobby,” Scott answered, nodding his head. “What's John on today?”

“Nothing, as far as I know,” Kitty said, sitting down next to Bobby. “Bobby, you alright?”

Bobby shook himself out of his stupor. “I need to go find John,” he said quickly, standing up and practically knocking Peter over in his haste to get out of the dressing room.

“And that, Jubilee, is the truth of the matter,” Remy said, pulling Marie over to the sofa and sitting down next to Kitty. 

“Why would John lie to me about it?” Jubilee asked, pouring herself another glass of wine. 

“Because he doesn't admit it like ever,” Peter said, walking up next to her and reaching for the vodka. “Of course he's going to lie about it to the girl he's currently sleeping with.”

“Speaking of girls we're currently sleeping with,” Remy said, looking over at Sean. “What are you going to do about Moira, Sean?”

Sean sighed. “So she was seen out with Janos. So what?”

“She's been seen out with Janos a fucking lot since we started this tour,” Scott pointed out. “Come on, Sean, you're more intelligent than this.”

“Fine!” Sean exclaimed. “She says she loves me and then she's sleeping with Janos! I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do about it!”

“You need to have some female entertainment tonight,” Peter declared. “If she's going to enjoy herself, you should enjoy yourself.”

“Exactly,” Remy echoed, prompting Marie to look over at him.

“So that's your thoughts on monogamy in a relationship? Suspect your partner is sleeping with someone else so do so yourself?”

“That's what I think Sean should do,” Remy said, wrapping an arm around Marie's shoulders. “That is not necessarily what I would do.”

“He should call Moira and confront her with the allegations,” Jubilee said.

“That's what I always say,” Kitty chimed in. “No one ever listens to me.”

“Exactly,” Marie said. “Just because she's been seen with Janos, whoever that is, that doesn't mean she's sleeping with him.”

Peter laughed. “You don't know who Janos Quested is?”

“No,” Marie said honestly. “I don't really pay that much attention to celebrities.”

“Janos Quested is only the most sought after actor right now,” Sean said. “And he's notorious for making his way through the pretty girls in the scene. So I think that it's probably very likely that he's enjoyed himself between Moira's open legs. Besides, that's sort of how I got her to begin with.”

Marie looked over at Sean curiously. “What?”

“She was dating Janos when we first hooked up,” Sean said, shrugging his shoulders. “Didn't break up with him for a while. Suppose that I should have realized she'd do the same thing to me. But I thought what we had was special.”

“I still say you should talk to her.”

“I totally agree,” Jubilee added. “Be a man about it and confront her.”

“You know my thoughts on the situation,” Kitty said. “They haven't changed.”

“Yeah, yeah, we'll see,” Sean said, standing up and walking out of the room.

Remy just shook his head. “And to think Sean was talking about marriage during tour rehearsals.”

“He's always been crazy about her,” Scott pointed out. “He doesn't want to see the truth. But I think he's starting to.”

“For his own sake, I hope so,” Peter said. “I mean, Moira's a nice girl and all, but it's obvious that she's not faithful to him.”

“What are we going to do about John and Bobby?” Remy asked, changing the subject. “And how are we going to make Jubilee believe that it's true?”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Jubilee said, sitting down in the chair Sean had vacated and sipping at her wine. “I haven't seen it.”

“We've got to let them figure it out as usual,” Peter said. “You know how John will react if we try to interfere.”

“True,” Remy said, shaking his head. “Fuck, I almost miss the days when none of us had relationships. The band was so much less complicated then.”

“But nowhere near as successful,” Scott pointed out. “Nor were some of us as happy as we are now.”

“Touché,” Remy said, smiling at Marie. “Even with this mess, I wouldn't change it for anything.”


	8. Chapter 8

_You wonder what's on my mind when I stare into space_  
_And I lie to you every time baby_  
_I don't know how you'd react if I told you the truth_  
_This is just supposed to be a fling, a silly night or two_  
_But the fact is that you cross my mind far too often_  
_The thoughts linger for hours as I remember your kisses on my skin_  
_Your hands on me, your lips on mine_  
_The truth is, baby, that it's you in the end_

Remy heard the crowd suddenly cheer louder than they had been, and he looked behind himself to see John with his hands on Bobby's face, holding him close as he leaned in and kissed him. Remy's jaw dropped as they separated, Bobby staring at John as though he was insane. John just gave him a shit-eating grin in return and went back to playing the song. It took Bobby a minute to recover, but soon he was playing again as well, and Remy turned back to the microphone as he heard Kitty start singing her portion of the song.

_When we're lying in bed together, my life feels complete_  
_I don't expect you to understand the way I feel_  
_I promised you that there were no strings attached_  
_But then I fell off the edge of a cliff for you, baby_  
_The fact is you cross my mind far too often_  
_The thoughts linger for hours as I remember your kisses on my skin_  
_Your hands on me, your lips on mine_  
_The truth is, baby, that it's you in the end_

At the side of the stage, Hank, Marie, and Jubilee were still staring at John in shock. 

"Did John just do what I think he just did?" Hank eventually said.

"If you think he just kissed Bobby in front of a crowd of thirty thousand, then yes, he did," Marie said, looking over at Jubilee. "Believe us now?"

Jubilee opened and closed her mouth a few times before bringing her glass of wine up to her lips and draining it. "That was fucking hot."

"Yes, it was," Marie echoed, wrapping her arm around Jubilee's waist. "You okay?"

"Fine," Jubilee said, still staring at John. "Holy shit, I want to see them do that again."

"Erik is going to kill them," Hank said. "Someone in the crowd is going to have gotten a picture or video of that, and it'll be all over social media in a matter of moments. In fact, I should get Darwin to start monitoring that."

Marie looked at him as Hank started looking around for Darwin. "Erik's not really going to kill them, is he? Surely he knows."

"There were two rules he laid down for them on this tour," Hank said, still looking around for Darwin. "Do not let anyone find out about whatever is going on between John and Bobby, and for Remy not to get photographed with you. They've now broken both of those rules. Erik's probably going to fly in for this."

As soon as Hank finished saying that, his phone started to ring. "And that's probably Erik now. Excuse me," he said, walking away.

Marie looked over at Jubilee and sighed. "I think that all we've succeeded in doing in following them around is get them in trouble."

"Please, you've got a good boyfriend out of the deal and I've gotten to have lots of sex with John Allerdyce. We've done more than get them in trouble."

"Oh God, and Theresa's showing up tomorrow," Marie said, reaching for her glass of whiskey. "This is not going to be good."

"Come on, Theresa is like the least threatening person alive," Jubilee said. "She's not coming to disrupt anything."

"You told her you were going to hook her up with Bobby," Marie pointed out.

"And I am," Jubilee said. "Whatever it is they have between them, they clearly aren't exclusive or John wouldn't have been fucking around with me. Plus I think Theresa and Bobby will really hit it off."

"There's no guarantee they are going to like each other," Marie said. "Even if Bobby is her favorite member of The Mutants."

"Just you wait," Jubilee said. "Bobby is going to love her."

Marie sighed and sipped at her drink. "You still thinking you and John is only a tour thing?"

"That's the plan," Jubilee murmured. "But I wouldn't be opposed to continuing it back in New York."

"Even knowing he's with Bobby?"

"As I said, that's hot."

Marie just laughed. "You are something else, Jubilee. You've gone from refusing to believe it to that's hot in like five minutes."

"Can't help it," Jubilee laughed. "John's fault. He's the one who kissed him."

**********

Marie poured herself a glass of whiskey and watched as another girl sat herself down on Remy's lap. It was after the show, and she tried to remind herself that he was just unwinding, just doing what he had to do to keep up appearances, but it still made her bitter. Remy was supposed to be with her, not some bleached blonde with big tits.

Bobby made his way over to the table of alcohol and reached for the whiskey, pouring himself a drink. "Tell me something?" he whispered, causing Marie to look over at him.

"Alright."

"John really kissed me on stage tonight, right?" Bobby asked, knocking back his drink.

Marie bit back a laugh. "He sure did."

Bobby poured himself another drink. "He's been possessive ever since he heard your friend Theresa is coming."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know," Bobby said honestly. "I know this means more to me than it does to him, but I'm not sure how to read his reaction to another woman. I mean, there's been plenty of other women in my life since we started this, and despite Jubilee's best intentions, nothing serious is ever going to develop between me and your friend. But he's never been like this. And I don't go getting all possessive when he chooses to spend every fucking night with Jubilee."

"No, you just get bitter about it and drink more whiskey," Marie said. "You should hear the tone of your voice right now."

Bobby sighed and knocked back another drink. "At least this is turning into some great material for the next album."

"He still hasn't realized that you write about him?"

"Oblivious as fuck is my Johnny," Bobby said. "I kind of like him like that."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Marie asked. "You can refuse to answer it, of course."

Bobby turned and looked at Darwin, holding up the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and shaking it until Darwin nodded and left the dressing room. "Sure, Marie. Why not?"

"Do you love him?"

Bobby skipped the glass and started drinking straight from the bottle. "Ah, fuck. You would ask me that, wouldn't you?"

"As I said, you don't have to answer it," Marie said, her gaze fixed on where Remy was caressing the blonde bitch's back.

"No, it's alright," Bobby said, taking another swig from the bottle. "Yes, I do. I've never actually admitted that to anyone before."

Marie turned to look at him and smiled softly. "Would you want a future with him?"

"I want it so badly sometimes I dream about it," Bobby said, glancing behind him at where John and Jubilee were making out. "But he loves women too much to give them up for me. I'm just a fling to him."

"If you were just a fling, would he be getting possessive and kissing you on stage?" Marie asked.

Bobby took a long drink from the bottle. "I don't know. Finding out involves us talking, and that never happens."

"Maybe it should."

"And maybe you should go drag Remy away from the groupies," Bobby said, turning the conversation back around. "You know he'd do anything you want."

"I know," Marie mumbled. "But I'm not ready for much of anything and he's ready for everything. We're in two very different places, and I don't know if we'll ever be in the same one."

"You told him that you love him yet?"

"I don't know that I do."

Bobby just gave her a look. "Come on. I admitted it to you. You can admit it to me."

Marie sighed heavily. "Of course I love him. But I'm terrified of it. The last time I was in love...well, you know what happened."

"Remy is different," Bobby said seriously. "And he'll wait for you. He always has, even when you lost touch. Sure there's been groupies, and the occasional string of dates, but he's never been serious about anybody but you."

"Says the man who thought I was a man," Marie laughed.

"I apologize for my drunken idiocy yet again. And, well, I wouldn't have minded if you were," Bobby said, laughing with her. "I think my stance on same-sex relationships is pretty well known."

Marie looked over at Remy and saw him looking at her. "He loves me too much. I'm such a horrible person. I don't deserve someone like him."

"You're not a horrible person," Bobby said, thanking Darwin when he suddenly appeared with a new bottle of whiskey. "You may think you are, but you're really not."

Marie held out her glass to Bobby and thanked him when he topped it off. "Oh, if you only knew, Bobby. If you only knew."

"Is this about Sheila Ramsey?" Bobby asked quietly.

"How the fuck do you know about her?" Marie asked, eyes wide.

Bobby sighed and poured his own drink. "There was a thing about it online a few days ago. 'Exclusive: How I pieced my son back together after Marie D'Ancanto left him for Remy LeBeau' or some bullshit like that."

"Fucking hell," Marie said, setting her drink down and going to get her phone out of her bag. She walked back over to Bobby as she opened up the browser and typed her name into it, the article Bobby was referencing coming up straight away. "Fucking Christ. This has to have come straight from Doug. I didn't leave him for Remy, you fucking bitch, but I bet that is what Doug told you."

"You don't think Doug had told them you had split up?"

"I'd almost guarantee it," Marie said, reading through the article. "'A source close to D'Ancanto confirms the truth of this story.' Yeah, I know exactly who that source is too. Doug doesn't get his way so now he's going to try to ruin my life again. Fucking fantastic."

Bobby knocked his drink back. "So counter him. Do your own interview."

"No. I know I can't win so what's the point in trying," Marie said automatically. "My father has influence, but it's nothing compared to the Ramsey family's influence. And I'm sure my father believes every fucking word of this article too. I made this fucking bed so now I have to lie in it."

"Ah," Bobby murmured. "That's why you think you're a horrible person. Marie, listen to me when I tell you that making a horrible mistake about a relationship doesn't make you a horrible person. People of all walks of life end up in shitty relationships and some people are lucky enough to find their way out of them. I don't know the details of how yours ended, but I know you're one of the lucky ones. I'm not so sure I will be."

"Well, that makes me feel a little bit better," Marie said, knocking back her drink. "In a really fucked up sort of way. But I sincerely hope that you end up a lucky one too."

Marie's eyes landed on Remy again, just in time to see the blonde bitch lean and kiss him, and Remy certainly wasn't pushing her away. Marie sighed heavily and reached for the whiskey, prompting Bobby to look behind him.

"Sometimes, Remy is an idiot."

"He can do whatever he wants," Marie murmured. "We're not in a relationship."

Bobby reached out and put his hand on Marie's arm, causing her to look over at him. "Sometimes, Remy is an idiot. Sometimes, Remy gets really stupid after a show and does stuff he regrets the next morning. Sometimes, Remy unintentionally hurts people. This is one of those times."

Marie sighed as Bobby put his hand down. "I said he can do whatever he wants."

"John can do whatever he wants too," Bobby murmured. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find one of those vapid girls to fuck tonight."

"Bobby," Marie started, making him look up at her as he turned around. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Marie."

**********

There was a woman in Remy's room when he woke up, but the voice was all wrong. It was heavily accented and possibly speaking a different language because Remy couldn't understand a word she was saying. Groaning, he forced himself to flip over onto his back, blinking as the light made his head start to throb behind his eyes. They focused eventually, and he saw blonde hair, and he stared at it for a moment before he came to a realization.

That woman was most definitely not Marie.

Remy groaned again, running hands over his face, trying to remember the events of the night before. They were in Nashville, and there was the concert, and John kissing Bobby on stage, and the after party in the dressing room, and...

The blonde woman turned around and bent down to kiss him, and Remy let her, realizing it would be futile to push her away now. She was only dressed in her bra and panties, and he was clearly naked, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out exactly what had happened the night before.

She pulled away and stood up, plucking her dress off the floor and putting it back on while Remy laid there, wallowing in misery. He felt like shit, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd fucked up royally the night before. When the woman was dressed, she bent down for another kiss and then said goodbye.

As soon as the hotel room door shut, Remy reached for his phone and found that he had a message from Marie on it. Clicking through to it, he closed his eyes first, trying to steel himself for whatever the message said. He opened his eyes and read through it, and then read through it again.

_Hope you enjoyed your night._

What was that supposed to mean? Remy sighed and collapsed back against the bed, scrolling through his contacts until he found Marie's number. His finger hovered over the button to connect the call before he finally pressed it. He put it on speaker and set it on his chest, listening to it ring.

"Hello?"

"Marie?"

"What?"

"What the fuck did I do last night?"

Marie sighed through the phone. "Shouldn't you be asking who?"

"No, I already saw her," Remy said, sighing. "I don't understand your message."

"What's there to understand? I hope you enjoyed your night. Simple as that."

"I'm sorry, Marie."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Marie, I shouldn't have done that last night," Remy exclaimed. "I'm supposed to be committed to you!"

"No, you're not," Marie said firmly. "We are not in a relationship, Remy. We have kissed and slept in the same bed. That does not make a relationship, nor a commitment."

"But I love you."

"You might," Marie replied. "But that doesn't matter."

"How can you say that doesn't matter? It's the most important thing in the world to me!"

"Remy, why are you doing this?"

"I'm trying to apologize for fucking up royally and you're telling me that the fact that I love you doesn't matter?"

Marie stayed silent for a few moments. "If you really were in love with me, you wouldn't have done it. You're in love with an idea, Remy. We don't know each other anymore. My shy, unassuming best friend has turned into a womanizing rock star. And I don't know who this womanizing rock star is. And you don't know who I am. It's foolish for us to think otherwise."

"I don't understand what you're saying, Marie."

"I'm saying we're not ready for this."

"We are ready for this, Marie," Remy said, anger creeping into his voice. "I've been ready for this since I was a teenager. I love you. I've always loved you. I want to marry you. I want you to be the mother of my children. What about this do you not understand?"

"You're hungover, you just fucked another woman, and you don't know what you're saying," Marie said after a moment. "So I'm going to hang up now, and I'll see you at the venue tonight."

"Marie."

"Goodbye, Remy."

Remy looked down at his phone and saw that the call had ended, and threw the offending device across the room as a result. He crawled out of bed and found clothes to put on, then grabbed his room key and headed out of his hotel room. He walked down the hall and found the room he was looking for, knocking on the door.

After a minute, the door opened, and Marie stared at Remy in disbelief. "Did you not listen to anything I just said on the phone?"

Remy pushed his way into the room and backed Marie up against the wall, kissing her hard. After a few moments, Marie began to respond, wrapping her arms around Remy's neck and pulling him closer. They broke apart when Remy found he couldn't go another moment without breathing, and he rested his forehead against hers. 

"You know how I know this is right?" Remy whispered in between breaths. "Because kissing someone has never been so satisfying in my life. Because I can feel how special this is in the depths of my soul. And if that makes me sound like a sap then so what. You can't deny it, Marie. You just can't."

Marie sighed as Remy kissed her again, bringing her hands up to tangle in his hair. "Remy," she breathed out when they parted. "It's too fast."

"It's not too fast, Marie. We've been dancing around this since we were fifteen."

"But..."

"No more questioning, Marie," Remy said, looking into her eyes lovingly. "Just let yourself feel."

Marie stared at him for what felt like forever, then closed her eyes and slumped back against the wall. "I can't."

"Why not?" Remy asked, his voice catching.

"Because I just can't."

Anger flared through Remy's eyes. "That's not an acceptable answer, Marie."

"It's too overwhelming!" Marie exclaimed, pushing Remy away from her and walking further into the room. "I have gone from one overwhelming experience to another lately and I feel like I can't breathe because of it. From Doug to cancer to you...I just can't handle it."

Remy let that sink in and leaned up against the wall, giving Marie space she obviously needed. "How can I make it not so overwhelming?"

"I don't know," Marie said honestly. "I just need time."

"Then I shall give you time," Remy said, turning towards the door.

"Wait," Marie said, and Remy paused. "I do love you, Remy. I always have."

Remy smiled at her, that brilliant smile that had made her weak in the knees since she was a teenager. "I've always loved you too. When you're ready, Marie, I will be here."

"I know," Marie said, nodding slightly. "Thank you."

"I'll see you when it's time to head to the venue," Remy said, walking out of the hotel room and heading back to his own. 

He collapsed onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. He had to be sure that he never fucked up like he did the night before again, and he had to be sure that he gave Marie the space that she needed. 

He could do that.


	9. Chapter 9

"Two rules! I gave you two rules!" Erik yelled, looking around at the members of the band. "Remy, don't get photographed with the lady friend, and that no one finds out about whatever it is that's going on between John and Bobby. And you've broken them both! You, lousy motherfuckers, need to listen. We have a perfectly crafted image for you, and when you do things like this, you ruin it!"

"In my defense," Remy said, "I have always told you that I'm not hiding a relationship from the fans."

"I don't fucking care!" Erik exclaimed. "No photographs, Remy! How fucking hard could that be?"

"I didn't see them," Remy said seriously. "All I saw was her."

"Lovesick idiot," Erik sighed and turned towards John and Bobby. "And you two. Don't even get me started on you two. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but you need to keep it off the fucking stage. Do I make myself clear?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," John said, shrugging. "It was only a kiss."

"Yeah, it was only a kiss," Erik said, then raised his voice about two octaves. "It nearly broke Twitter! And it was only a joke from Bobby in that interview about him finding you sexy, and it's only a fragment of the critics' imaginations that you two have smoking hot chemistry on stage!"

Erik took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "Look, you guys know I care a fucking lot about you, so I sincerely mean it when I say this. Figure it the fuck out. Either you're together or you're not, but no more of this ambiguous bullshit."

John and Bobby exchanged a look and then John sighed. "We're not together, Erik. There is absolutely nothing going on between us."

Bobby put his head down as Erik stared at John. "So you continue to say. But I think everyone in this room knows that it's fucking bullshit. So figure it the fuck out."

John looked over at Bobby for some backup, but Bobby wouldn't meet his gaze. John frowned and turned back to Erik. "Maybe I can be seen with Jubilee tonight, and Bobby with Theresa," he suggested. "That would calm down any rumors that are spreading."

"No fucking women!" Erik yelled, checking his watch. "I don't even know why these women are here, but they don't need to be! Now I have to go or I'm going to miss my flight. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes," the whole band muttered.

"Then fucking listen!" Erik yelled, walking towards the door before pausing and turning back. "Oh, and Kitty? If I so much as hear the name Piotr Rasputin related to yours in the news, I'm going to kill all of you."

The band turned to look at Kitty as Erik walked out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. 

"Piotr Rasputin? As in Piotr Rasputin from Colossus?" Peter said after a moment. "You are not fucking Piotr Rasputin."

Kitty just rolled her eyes. "And if I am?"

"Holy shit, Kitty, why didn't you tell any of us?" John exclaimed. "He's fucking amazing!"

Kitty sighed. "His divorce isn't final yet. That's why."

"So what? People move on after divorce papers have been filed all the time," Sean said. "No one would blink at that."

"My parents would fucking flip out over it, that's what," Kitty said, standing up and walking to the alcohol table. "They're definitely going to lose it over our age difference."

"He's not that much older than you," Peter said. "Like what, two years?"

"Try twelve," Kitty said, pouring herself a drink.

"There is no fucking way he is twelve years older than you," Remy exclaimed. "Piotr Rasputin can't possibly be that old."

"He started Colossus in 1986," Kitty said, taking a long sip from her drink. "I was five then."

Bobby nodded. "She's right. Colossus was an indie band for a long time before they got their recording contract. It may seem like they haven't been around for that long, but they have been."

The door to the dressing room opened and the girls all came in. After a round of introductions for Theresa, they settled into quiet conversation that was not about Remy and Marie, despite everyone in the room wanting to talk about the fact that they were sitting on opposite sides of it. 

Darwin came in after a while and got everyone's attention. "One last message from Erik, and again, please don't shoot the messenger."

"Great," John groaned. "What is it this time?"

Darwin took a deep breath. "He says he's canceling your break after the tour. You're going right back into the studio when you get back to New York."

The whole band started to protest but Darwin just held up his hands. "I'm just the messenger. Take it up with Erik."

"Fucking hell," Scott exclaimed, standing up. "Now I've got to explain to my pregnant wife why we can't go away for a while. Thanks a lot, you fuckers."

Scott stormed out of the room and Sean sighed. "I was supposed to go to London and watch Moira film her first movie."

"You still don't believe she's sleeping with Janos Quested?" Peter asked.

"Fuck off," Sean said angrily, standing up and walking out of the room.

"I've got to go tell Crystal that we've got to fit an album around our wedding now," Peter said, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he walked out of the room. "She's going to be furious. She was angry enough I had to leave to come on this tour, and now this? She's going to fucking kill me."

John leaned back in his chair and propped his legs up on the table. "Well, this is going fucking fantastically. I hope you've been writing, Bobby, because we're going to need a shitload of material to make Storm happy when this tour's over."

"Luckily for you, I've been quite inspired on this tour," Bobby said, still refusing to look at John. Instead, he stood up and offered a hand to Theresa. "Would you like to see the stage?"

"I'd love to," Theresa said, letting Bobby take her hand and then following him out of the room. 

The second the door was closed, Remy stood up and walked over to John, hitting him upside the head. "You are a fucking moron."

"What?" John exclaimed, rubbing the side of his head. "What the fuck did I do?"

"Do you even understand how much you hurt him when you say shit like that?" Remy yelled. "You are lucky he even speaks to you sometimes!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" John asked. "You know there's nothing going on between me and Bobby."

Remy reached out and hit him again. "Motherfucking idiot."

"I don't have to take this kind of abuse," John said, grabbing Jubilee by the hand and pulling her towards the door. "Especially when you don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Fine, John, run away, just like always," Remy said, collapsing back down onto the sofa. "Pretend you're perfectly straight and you've never done anything with Bobby. I don't fucking care anymore."

John just glared at him as he and Jubilee left the dressing room. 

"Tonight's show is going to suck," Kitty murmured over the top over her glass. "The chemistry is going to be all off."

"Maybe you guys can fix it in sound check," Marie said.

"I think it's unlikely that all of us will be on stage for sound check," Remy replied. "Fuck, Erik shows up and lectures us, and now everything's fucked up."

The door to the dressing room opened and Hank stuck his head inside. "Do I even want to know what's going on?"

Kitty sighed. "Scott is furious with Erik, Sean's furious with John, Peter's going to be in trouble with Crystal, Bobby is concentrating on Theresa because John's an idiot, John's furious with Remy for pointing out to him how much he hurts Bobby, and I'm sitting here wondering how we're all going to be on the same page for the show tonight."

Hank sighed and walked into the room, sitting down. "Remy, I know you don't want to do this, but..."

"I know, I know, I'm the peacemaker among us," Remy said, standing up. "I'll take care of it."

Hank nodded and stood up as well. "I'll go make sure the stage is ready for sound check."

Remy turned towards Kitty as Hank left the room. "Kitty, you're good right?"

"Totally," Kitty said. "Go round up the band. Send the girls back here. I think we need some band-only time."

"I agree," Remy said, walking past Marie and out of the dressing room.

Once the door was closed, Kitty turned her attention to Marie. "So you're sitting on opposite sides of the room. Does this have anything to do with that blonde last night?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I'm not really sure what the catalyst for it was exactly," Marie said, running her hands over her face. "It's just too overwhelming. I need some space. So he's giving me that."

"I know what you mean," Kitty said, taking another sip from her drink. "When I met Piotr, the attraction was so instant and so deep and complex and I can't really put it into words. It's like in an instant I realized what the world could be like if I was in love. I swear I was in love with him after a day. The guys...all they care about is the fact that I'm fucking the lead singer of Colossus. I don't see it that way. I see Piotr the man, not the lead singer of a band. I'm guessing it's kind of that way for you too."

"Definitely," Marie said, smiling. "I still can't believe the boy that wouldn't sing for me unless the lights were off is a fucking rock star."

"He wouldn't sing for you with the lights on?" Kitty laughed. "He's told me before that he didn't use to have confidence in singing in front of people, but I didn't know it went that deep."

"He used to mouth the words in the church choir because he was too scared to actually sing," Marie divulged. "Please, please, tease him about that."

"Oh, that's definitely something everyone in the band needs to know," Kitty said, laughing again. "He really does love you, you know. His magical Marie, the one that we used to tease him about making up. Now that I've met you, I can understand why even when you weren't around he was still under your spell."

"I don't like thinking of him as being under my spell," Marie said seriously. "I was under Doug's spell and that is entirely different to how I want my relationship with Remy to go."

"It's just an expression," Kitty said, polishing off her drink. "But you understand what I meant by it."

"I do," Marie said, taking a deep breath. "He loves me so much it scares me."

"I understand that too," Kitty said, standing up and walking back to the alcohol table. "My ex-fiancé, he was...all-encompassing, overwhelming, and possessive as fuck. It took the collective work of the band and security to get me away from him." 

"I never knew you were engaged," Marie said. "And while I freely admit I don't pay attention to pop culture, I did kind of pay attention to The Mutants because of Remy."

"We kept it out of the press," Kitty said, setting her empty glass down. "I don't know what they threatened him with, but he's never gone talking to the papers. I'm really glad about that. That's a relationship I don't want the world to know about."

"I know all about those," Marie said, sighing. "I do love him, Kitty."

"I know you do," Kitty said. "Otherwise we'd be having an entirely different conversation. And I've had to have a few of those with some hangers-on in the past."

The door to the dressing room opened and Darwin stuck his head inside. "Kitty, sound check in five."

Kitty nodded and Darwin disappeared. "Good talk, Marie. I'll see you later."

"Thanks, Kitty."

**********

"Alright, Nashville!" Remy yelled out to a roar from the crowd. "Tonight we have a special treat for you. A new song, written and performed by our very own Bobby Drake!"

The crowd roared again as Remy stepped away from the microphone, and Bobby swallowed hard as he stepped up to it, acoustic guitar in hand. The spotlight shone on him as he took a deep breath, and then he began to play.

_I think it's time for me to let you go_  
_There's so many things that you refuse to know_  
_Like the way I think you hung the moon and stars_  
_And how even when we're apart, I know where you are_  
_But it's become so unbelievably clear to me_  
_That our love just cannot be_  
_You refuse to admit what is in your heart_  
_And I've been losing this battle from the start_  
_So I think it's time for me to let you go_  
_I'll always love you, I hope you know_  
_But fooling around with each other in the dark_  
_Is not enough for me, no matter the spark_  
_There's always someone else whose caught your eye_  
_And it's harder and harder for me to find reasons why_  
_I should stay with you, no matter how much I want to_  
_And so this is me letting you go_  
_How I'll fill this hole in my heart I don't know_  
_But I know the time is now for me to start_  
_Or I'll never get over this broken heart_  
_And so I think it's time for me to let you go_  
_I'll always love you, I hope you know_  
_But fooling around with each other in the dark_  
_Is not enough for me, no matter the spark_  
_And so I think it's time for me to let you go_  
_Let you go_  
_I'm letting go_

Bobby played the last notes of the song and the crowd started cheering loudly, bringing a sad smile to his face. He said thank you and then stepped away from the microphone, refusing to look at John as he made his way back to his usual spot on the stage.

Remy walked back up to the microphone. "Let's hear it one more time for Bobby Drake!"

Off to the side of the stage, Marie, Jubilee, and Theresa were standing there, watching as John walked over to Bobby and tried to talk to him.

"You think he's realized that song was about him?" Jubilee asked, prompting a gasp from Theresa.

"Nope," Marie said as she watched John mess up Bobby's hair. "I think he's completely oblivious as usual."

"I feel so bad for Bobby," Jubilee said as she reached for her drink. "It must have killed him to write that."

"Are you telling me that Bobby and John are..." Theresa trailed off as both Marie and Jubilee nodded. "Wow. That's really hot."

"It's really fucked up," Marie murmured, sipping at her whiskey. "John hurts Bobby so much, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it. And he still hasn't realized that every song Bobby writes is about him."

"Hmm," Theresa said, turning to look at Bobby again. "He told me earlier that we could have some fun, but that he didn't want anything serious. Is this why?"

"Yes," Marie said. "But I wasn't expecting to hear that song tonight."

"Neither was I," Jubilee said. "Should I try to talk to John about it tonight?"

"No," Marie said firmly. "Leave it between them."

"Alright," Jubilee said, turning to Theresa and smiling. "I'm sure Bobby will enjoy your company tonight."

"I hope so," Theresa murmured, her eyes still locked on him. "He was pretty melancholy this afternoon. He just wanted to talk about Boston."

"Well, Bobby does love his hometown," Marie said. 

The band came filing off stage then, and Remy grabbed Marie and spun her around. "How did you enjoy the show, Marie?"

"Loved it," Marie said as Remy put her down. "Bobby's new song though..."

"I know, it's brilliant, isn't it?" Remy said, pulling her towards the dressing room. "He came up with the idea to sing it tonight at sound check. None of the rest of us know how to play it yet, so we decided it should just be him and an acoustic guitar. And it was perfect. The crowd loved it."

"And what about John?" Marie asked quietly as Remy opened the door to the dressing room. 

"John?" Remy asked, turning to look at her. "Why would you care about what...oh my God."

Marie watched the realization cross his face. "Like I said, what did John think of it?"

"John loved it," Remy said quietly. "He's been telling Bobby all afternoon how gorgeous and perfect it is."

The dressing room door opened and Darwin stuck his head in. "Bobby is heading straight to the hotel. Your friend Theresa is going with him. You two want to go, or you want to stay here for awhile?"

Remy looked at Marie for a moment before shaking his head. "We'll stay."

"Okay," Darwin said, closing the door. 

"Why are we staying?" Marie asked. "Why aren't we going after Bobby?"

"Because what Bobby needs tonight, only Theresa can give him," Remy said. "This isn't the first time Bobby has tried to end things."

"I feel so bad for him."

"Don't," Remy murmured. "John will say something to him once he realizes what Bobby is trying to do, and then they'll be back to their arrangement. It's not something that's going to just end."

"That song certainly sounded like an end," Marie said.

"It's the end until John goes crawling back to him. Trust me on this."

"Alright."

**********

Theresa knocked on the hotel room door, and after a few minutes, a sleepy looking Marie opened it. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be asleep yet."

"It's fine, Theresa," Marie said, opening up the door. "Come on in."

Theresa walked into the room and headed towards the table and chairs while Marie collapsed back onto her bed. "So, Theresa, why are you here and not with Bobby?"

"Because Bobby kicked me out," Theresa said, sitting down in a chair. "He was polite about it, but still."

"Bobby kicked you out?" Marie said, reaching over for the ashtray and her joint and lighting it up. "Did you two not have sex?"

"No, we did," Theresa said, "and then we took a shower and then he asked me to leave so he could be alone. I didn't know where else to go."

Marie sighed heavily and put her joint back in the ashtray before standing up. "Fuck, this is worse than I thought. Remy told me what Bobby needed tonight was you. If Bobby doesn't want that, then this is bad. I'm going to go get Remy to go talk to him. I'll be right back."

Marie walked out of her room and down to the one she knew was Remy's, knocking on the door. "Remy, it's me. Open up."

After a moment, a shirtless Remy opened the door, glancing curiously at Marie. "I thought we were spending tonight apart."

"We are," Marie said. "Bobby kicked Theresa out so he could be alone. I think you need to go talk to him."

"Fuck," Remy said, running his hands through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I'll go talk to him."

"Thanks," Marie said, walking away. 

Remy ducked into his hotel room and grabbed his room key, then headed out and down the hall to Bobby's room. "Bobby? Let me in."

It took awhile, but Bobby eventually opened the door, sighing when he saw Remy standing there. "Just leave me alone, Remy."

"No," Remy said, pushing his way into the hotel room. "We have to talk about this before it ruins the band."

Bobby sighed and closed the door, walking further into the room and collapsing onto the bed. "He's oblivious. He won't even notice anything is different."

"Until he does, because he always figures it out eventually," Remy said, sitting down in a chair. "What are you going to do then?"

"It won't matter," Bobby said. "He doesn't care about me."

"Fucking hell, is that really what you think?" Remy threw up his hands in disgust. "You know he cares about you, Bobby. He is just really shitty about showing it."

Bobby looked over at Remy. "I can't do this anymore, man. I can't keep hoping that someday things are going to be different."

"It's not like you to just give up on something," Remy said firmly. "Especially him."

Bobby ran his hands over his face. "I know, but it's just occurred to me today that I've been writing a breakup album this whole tour, and there's only one reason I would be doing it."

"Every song is a breakup song?"

"Yes," Bobby murmured. "You're going to have to contribute some love songs to this album because I've got nothing."

"I didn't even realize that song tonight was about him until Marie pointed it out to me," Remy said. "It's a great song, Bobby."

Bobby forced himself to smile. "Thanks."

"But it can't be the end."

"Why not?" Bobby yelled. "Why can I not make this decision without you coming in here and trying to talk me out of it?"

Remy shook his head. "I'm not trying to talk you out of it. I'm trying to keep it from becoming a problem within the band. You can't believe that he's going to let you give up without a fight."

"I do believe that," Bobby said. "I believe he doesn't give a shit about me, and he won't care that it's over. He's got Jubilee now, and she makes him far happier than I ever did."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Remy exclaimed. "Bobby, come on, man. You know he loves you in his own way."

"Well, I don't like his way!" Bobby said. "I've always understood keeping this a secret, but to deny it to you guys? To Erik? And in the way he does? It's too much."

"You should talk to him," Remy said. "Tell him how you really feel. I know you haven't. You might be surprised at his response."

"It's not worth it."

"If you love him," Remy started, only for Bobby to interrupt.

"Oh fuck off with this. You know nothing."

"If you love him," Remy started again, "you at least owe it to yourself to lay it all on the line."

Bobby sighed and threw an arm across his eyes. "Get the fuck out of my room."

"Fine," Remy said, standing up. "But at least think about what I said, please. We need you and him getting along."

"Fuck off!"


	10. Chapter 10

By the time the tour reached Washington D.C. two weeks later, everyone was miserable. Scott missed Jean, Peter was arguing with Crystal over wedding plans, Sean was fighting with Moira over the Janos Quested situation, and John was trying to figure out why Bobby was hardly speaking to him. Bobby was attached to his guitar and writing songs like crazy, using his writing time as an excuse not to talk to the others. Jubilee had left a few days before to go back to New York, and Theresa had left the day before to do the same, leaving Marie alone with Remy again, which wasn't entirely a good thing. Kitty was the only one close to being happy, but as the tension between the band mounted, she got more and more worried.

The dressing room before the show was full of awkward silence. Bobby was somewhere in the venue writing another song, and Scott was off somewhere talking to Jean. John was playing his bass as Sean tried to sleep in his chair because he'd been up the entire night before arguing with Moira. Remy was sitting on the sofa with headphones on, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on the concert. Peter was scrolling through websites on his iPad, occasionally asking Marie questions about floral arrangements that Crystal had sent him as examples for their wedding because he didn't have the slightest clue about what a good floral arrangement looked like. Kitty chimed in with her opinions as well and made small talk with Marie in between.

It took a little while, but Kitty eventually realized that John seemed to be playing some sort of song instead of just random notes. “Johnny,” she said, making him look up at her. “What is that you're playing?”

“It's nothing,” John said, rearranging some papers he had on the table in front of him. “Just a song I'm working on.”

“You never write songs.”

“I know,” John said, sighing. “And this is probably shit, but I think the only way I can do this is through a song.”

Kitty smiled. “Play it for me?”

“I don't know if it's really ready for anyone else to hear,” John murmured. “But when I think it is, I'll definitely play it for you. I actually think that if it's any good, it'd be a good track for you to sing.”

“What's it about?” Marie asked, making John smile.

“Love,” John responded. “But that's all I really want to say about it.”

“That's fine,” Marie said, smiling. “I hope I get to hear it too.”

“Of course,” John said, nodding as he gathered up the papers and stood up. “I'm going to go find Bobby.”

As soon as John had left the room, Kitty broke into a smile. “He's writing about Bobby.”

“How do you know that?” Marie asked, looking over at her. 

“Kitty's right,” Peter said, his eyes never leaving the iPad. “John never writes songs, but when he does, he only ever writes about Bobby.”

“He's going to try to win him back with a song,” Kitty said, standing up and heading to the alcohol table. “Every time he's done it in the past, it's worked.”

“He hasn't done it in years though,” Peter said. “Last time was before we got the record deal.”

“That's because Bobby usually gives in after a day or two. He hasn't done that this time,” Kitty said, pouring herself a drink. “John has realized that he's really fucked up like he did that time he slept with that guy whose name I can't remember, and so he has to win Bobby back. Bobby isn't going to come willingly.”

“James,” Sean said sleepily.

“What?” Peter asked.

“That's what the guy's name was. James. James Madrox.”

Kitty snapped her fingers as the recognition came. “Yes, that's it, Sean. James Madrox. That was the last time John wrote Bobby a song. After he slept with James Madrox.”

“Not the same James Madrox that has that song the radio's always playing?” Marie asked.

“That's the one,” Peter said. “Don't ever say his name in front of Bobby.”

Marie just shook her head. “They have such a fucked up relationship. I don't blame Bobby for breaking things off with him. I hope he doesn't give in and take him back either.”

“No, Marie, we definitely want him to take John back,” Peter said. “It'll disrupt the entire chemistry of the band if they split up. I mean, look at how miserable we've all become since Bobby sang that song in Nashville.”

“I agree,” Kitty murmured as she sat back down. “Bobby has to take him back for the good of the band at least.”

“Even if it's not healthy for him to be in a relationship with John?” Marie asked.

“It's really unhealthy for him not to be in one,” Kitty answered. “Trust me on this one, Marie. I've seen it. You haven't.”

“Kitty's right,” Peter said. “John better perfect that song though. Bobby seems to be really serious about ending it this time.”

“Bobby was really serious about ending it last time,” Kitty pointed out. “He wrote an entire album of breakup songs, and then they hooked up again, and he wrote everything that ended up on _Wonderful At Night_ in like two days. And it was all brilliant. I see no reason why the same thing won't happen again.”

“Good point,” Peter said. “God, I hope John finishes that song soon.”

“At least this tour is almost over,” Kitty murmured. “Two more weeks. I can't wait until we're back in New York, even if that means another six shows before it's over.”

“Yeah, it'll be nice to sleep in my own bed next to Crystal,” Peter said. “But then we'll be trapped in a recording studio for weeks on end working on a new album.”

Kitty just shrugged. “At least we won't be going from a plane to a bus to a venue to a hotel to another bus to another plane to another city and on and on and on.”

“Very true,” Peter said, looking over at Marie. “Then Remy can finally take you on that date he has been meticulously planning.”

“Date?” Marie sighed. “Yeah, I guess we're going to have to go on those, aren't we?”

“Of course we are,” Remy said out of the blue, making Marie jump. “How else will we be photographed falling out of nightclubs together?”

“I thought we weren't supposed to be photographed together?” Marie asked when Remy turned to her and smiled. 

“That was on tour,” he said. “Erik didn't say anything about after the tour.”

“Then we shall fall out of nightclubs at all hours of the morning,” Marie said, laughing.

“The socialite and the rock star,” Remy said, his smile turning into a grin. “We're a perfect match.”

“Ugh, you two are making me sick,” Sean muttered. “I think I liked it better when Remy was longing after you.”

Marie just laughed. “A little jealous, Sean?”

“Fuck off,” Sean said, shutting his eyes again. “Let me sleep.”

“Okay,” Remy said, laughing. “We'll just entertain ourselves.”

“Keep your fucking clothes on,” Sean mumbled. “I don't want to wake up and see something I don't want to see.”

The four of them burst out laughing and Sean threw his hands up in the air. “Shut up and let me sleep!”

The laughing stopped when Peter groaned, drawing the attention to him. “How many fucking shades of purple are there?”

“A lot,” Marie said. “Why?”

“Crystal wants the colors of the wedding to be purple and gray, but she isn't sure which shade of purple so she wants my opinion. Do you know what my opinion is? I don't care. That's my opinion.” Peter sighed and put his iPad down, running his hands over his face. “I seriously want to just go to city hall and get married there. But no, we have to have a proper church wedding to appease her parents and it's not that I mind that, it's that I don't care about the details of it. Give me a suit and tell me where to be. That's all the involvement I want to have in these wedding preparations.”

“Have you told Crystal that?” Remy asked.

“Fuck no,” Peter exclaimed. “She'd castrate me.”

“Then I suggest you decide which shade of purple you like the best,” Remy said, barely concealing a laugh. “Think of it this way. You're only going to have to do this once. Once it's done, you'll never have to do it again.”

Peter sighed and picked up the iPad. “Fine. But you two ladies are giving me your input.”

“I can do that,” Marie said, fighting off laughter.

“Me too,” Kitty said, giving in and laughing.

**********

Marie walked into her apartment and headed straight for her bedroom, dropping her suitcase somewhere along the way and collapsing onto her bed. It had been a long four months on the road with the band, and it felt so good to be home. She grabbed a pillow and stuffed it underneath her head, closed her eyes, and prepared to go to sleep.

And then there was a knock at her door.

Groaning, Marie pushed herself up and off the bed, heading back to the front door and flinging it open. “What?”

“Hello to you too.”

Marie's eyes focused and she saw Doug standing there. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Now, now, Marie. Is that any way to speak to me?”

Marie blinked a few times before nodding her head. “Yes, it is. What the fuck do you want, Doug?”

“I came to discuss the arrangement.”

Marie sighed heavily. “What arrangement?”

“Oh yes,” Doug said, reaching into his coat pocket. “Your father and I have taken care of everything.”

Marie took the paperwork that Doug held out to her and looked through it quickly. “Doug...”

“As you can see, all the details are covered,” Doug said, pushing past Marie and walking into the apartment. 

Marie turned around and looked at him. “Doug, I'm not signing this.”

“It was wrong of me to leave you,” Doug said, leaning up against the wall. “And it was wrong of you to leave me. So there will be a public reconciliation at Sardi's followed by a courtship of two months before the announcement that our engagement is back on. The wedding will take place three months after that. I already have Mother working on the plans.”

“There is going to be no public reconciliation at Sardi's, there will be no courtship, and there sure as fuck will be no engagement or wedding,” Marie said, seething. “What the fuck makes you think that I'm going to agree to this?”

“Your father,” Doug said, walking towards the door. “You can work out the details of your financial settlement with him, but keep in mind you only need enough money to keep you afloat until the wedding, and then everything that is mine will be yours. Or well, everything that we negotiate in the prenuptial agreement anyway. I'll be in touch.”

And with that, Doug walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him. Marie stared at the closed door for a moment before looking down at the paperwork in her hands. She slid down to the floor as she read through paragraph after paragraph of jargon that lawyers had come up with to explain what her father and Doug wanted the next few months of her life to look like. By the time she got to the end, she had a massive headache and a terrible fear that she wasn't going to be able to get out of this one.

Marie eventually stood and walked back to her bedroom, finding her phone and immediately calling Jubilee. 

“Hello?”

“Jubilee, I need you to come over here now.”

“Sorry, Marie, but I'm a little busy at the moment.”

“Jubilee, please.”

“Marie, why don't you just go to sleep? I know you just got home.”

“Doug just dropped off paperwork detailing a reconciliation, courtship, engagement, and marriage that he and my father negotiated. Now would you please come over here?”

Jubilee was quiet for a moment. “Fucking hell. I'll be there within the hour.”

“Thank you,” Marie said, hanging up the phone and collapsing onto her bed. “Holy shit, what the fuck am I going to do?”

**********

Marie took a large sip of her whiskey. “I was supposed to go over to Remy's tonight. Relax before they start playing the last six shows of the tour.”

“You've got to tell him,” Jubilee said. “You can't lie to him about something like this.”

“I wasn't going to,” Marie protested. “I'm just worried about how he's going to react.”

“Well, he has to know that you don't want anything detailed in these pages,” Jubilee said, tossing the paperwork to the table. “Or is there something in there you want?”

“Are you really asking me that question?” Marie exclaimed. “Because I would think the answer is obvious.”

“Marie.”

“I don't want anything to do with this situation,” Marie said. “Doug took it upon himself to call my father, tell him he wanted me back but felt it needed to be done with a legal contract, and my father called the lawyers and arranged for all of this without telling me about it. I'm terrified somehow Doug's money will make it happen without my signature, and that I'll be legally required to do all of this. And you don't understand why I'm nervous about talking to Remy about this.”

Jubilee just shook her head. “Well, as someone with a law degree, even if I don't actually practice it, I don't think there's any way that they can make this legally binding without your signature. You're of legal age so that means your father can't sign it on your behalf unless he was your power of attorney, and he's definitely not that. But you've got to address this with Remy. Because like it or not, Marie, this paperwork exists.”

Marie took another long sip from her drink. “I thought about setting fire to it before I realized it's just a copy.”

“I'd say burn it anyway,” Jubilee agreed, “but you need to have an actual practicing lawyer read through this and figure out how to help you. I've got a good one you can go to. He's worked for the family for years.”

Marie nodded. “I appreciate that because I clearly cannot use my family's lawyers for this.”

Jubilee glanced at her phone after it beeped, clicking through to a message and reading it. “Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“Theresa says Bobby showed up on her doorstep this evening,” Jubilee murmured. “She wasn't expecting that.”

“So? They live near each other if I am remembering where Bobby lives correctly.”

“Theresa is not in the City. She's working on some project or something so she's staying in her father's townhouse in downtown Philadelphia.”

Marie nearly choked on her drink. “What?”

“Bobby apparently went to Philadelphia to see Theresa,” Jubilee said. “See, I knew those two would be good together.”

Marie sighed, reaching for her phone. “I wonder if Remy knows that. They're supposed to be at the stadium at ten tomorrow morning.”

“Tell him to come over tonight,” Jubilee demanded. “Talk to him.”

Marie set down her drink and started typing out a message to Remy. “Will it make you shut up about it if I do?”

“Yes,” Jubilee said. “Tell him to bring dinner.”

“Are you trying to plan my evening?”

“Just making some suggestions,” Jubilee murmured as she took a sip of her drink. “You're going to get hungry and I highly doubt you have any edible food after not being home for four months.”

“That is what they make takeout for,” Marie said, sending the message to Remy. “I told him to bring dinner and there's something we have to discuss.”

“Good,” Jubilee said, polishing off her drink. “I shall leave you then.”

“I wish you wouldn't,” Marie said. “I don't know what to do.”

“You should get some sleep, Marie,” Jubilee said as she put on her jacket. “You're exhausted. I can see it in your eyes. And don't worry about tonight. You'll know what to say.”

Marie polished off her drink as Jubilee made her way to the door. “Thanks, Jubilee.”

“You're welcome,” Jubilee said, opening the door. “I'll text you the lawyer's info once I get it from my mother.”

“Thanks,” Marie said as the door shut. She reached for the bottle and poured herself another glass. There was no point in trying to sleep. She knew she wouldn't be able to. Instead, she planned to finish the bottle of whiskey in front of her, knowing there were ten brand new bottles sitting in her cabinet. 

She let out a small chuckle as she brought the glass to her lips. Ten brand new bottles. She hadn't lied when she said she was probably an alcoholic.


	11. Chapter 11

Remy knocked on the door at precisely seven o'clock, waiting impatiently for Marie to answer it. He had been confused about how their date had turned into dinner at Marie's apartment, but he trusted that Marie only changed it because she absolutely had to. The door opened a moment later, and the moment Remy saw her, he immediately knew something was wrong. “Marie?”

“Come on in,” Marie said, motioning for him to come inside. “Please say you remembered dinner. I have nothing to eat.”

Remy stepped into the apartment, looking at Marie closely. “You haven't even changed out of the clothes you wore on the plane.”

“Drinking was more of a priority,” Marie said, heading towards the kitchen. 

“Drinking?” Remy responded, walking into the kitchen and setting the bags of food down. “I got Chinese. What have you been drinking for?”

“Sweet and sour chicken?” Marie asked.

“Yes, that's one of the choices.”

“Good, 'cause that's my favorite.”

Remy looked over at her. “That's bullshit. Your favorite is honey sesame chicken. What the fuck is going on?”

“Are you my boyfriend?” Marie asked as she pulled a chair out from underneath the table and sat down.

“Um,” Remy started, unsure of what to say. “Yes?”

“So I should tell Doug his planned public reconciliation at Sardi's shouldn't happen then?” Marie said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey. “Of all the fucking places, he picked Sardi's too.”

Remy turned to her with confusion on his face. “Planned public reconciliation?”

“It's in this,” Marie said, reaching out and picking up the paperwork before dropping it back on the table. “You can read it after dinner. Warning, the legal jargon will likely give you a headache.”

Remy carried the food over to the table before turning back to the cabinets, opening and closing them until he found plates and another glass. “What is that exactly?”

“I'm not sure what to call it exactly, but Doug showed up here like literally five minutes after I got home this morning to deliver it to me,” Marie said, pouring herself another glass. “I'm sure it's a copy, but I'm not sure if the actual paperwork is going to require my signature or not. Jubilee seems to think that it won't, but if it does I'm not fucking signing it, I'll tell you that much.”

Remy settled down at the table and while Marie reached for the food, Remy reached for the paperwork. While they ate, he read every single paragraph, his anger building more and more with each passing word. When he was finished, he dropped the paperwork back down to the table and knocked back three glasses of whiskey before he was able to speak.

“That is a motherfucking contract for an arranged marriage to a man that physically abuses you!” he exclaimed. “There's even a paragraph in there about how he's able to discipline you when you disobey him!”

“I know,” Marie said softly. “And I have no fucking clue what to do about it.”

“Burn the fucking thing.”

“It's only a copy.”

“I think burning it would still feel good.”

“Maybe,” Marie said, sighing when her phone beeped. She looked at it and saw the message was from Jubilee, clicking through until she saw the information for the lawyer Jubilee had been talking about. “You know anything about a law firm called Xavier and Company?”

“Actually, I do,” Remy said. “When the band needed lawyers to represent us, we turned to them. Charles Xavier is Erik's husband. They represent the band on all our legal matters.”

“Well, that's all the recommendation I need. I'm guessing Charles is the one that's represented Jubilee's family for years,” Marie said, running her hands over her face. “That's something I need to do first thing in the morning. Call them and get an appointment set up so someone who understands the legal jargon can tell me what that contract really means.”

“Well, I don't think there are better lawyers in New York state,” Remy said, “but you might consider my opinion biased.”

“Biased or not, I'm going with it,” Marie said, polishing off her drink and standing, taking their plates and putting them in the sink. “Can we go crash on my bed?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” she murmured as she pulled Remy down the hall, into the bedroom, and onto the bed. “I should have told you more before you came over, but I couldn't do that via a text.”

“It's alright,” Remy said, kissing her softly. “But I would have come over sooner if you'd told me.”

“No, you needed to sleep. And I needed to think about how to talk about this with you,” Marie said, pulling Remy into another kiss. “Have you talked to Bobby today?”

“Not since we got off the plane. Why?”

“Apparently he went to Philadelphia and showed up on Theresa's doorstep,” Marie said. “She texted Jubilee about it.”

Remy groaned and buried his head in Marie's neck. “Bobby, you motherfucker. We've got a fucking concert tomorrow. And he knows it.”

“Why do you think he went to Philadelphia? I mean, I know he and Theresa had a little fling, but she certainly didn't think anything of it.”

“He's hiding from John,” Remy said, shifting around until he could reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. “I've got to call him. He can't hide from John forever, and Erik will kill us if we're not all at the stadium on time tomorrow.”

Marie ran her fingers through Remy's hair as he found Bobby's number and dialed, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, man?” echoed through the room a few moments later.

“Why the fuck are you in Philadelphia?” Remy exclaimed. 

Bobby let out a string of curse words that Marie could only half figure out. “I can't fucking do it.”

“Bobby...”

“No, hear me the fuck out! I know about the shows, I know about the upcoming studio time. I know I wrote all those songs on the tour, but I can't let us record any of them. I can't do this. I've tried to act like I can do this but I can't.”

Remy ran his hands over his face. “Bobby, you are our primary songwriter, our lead guitarist, and the one who holds this band together. You've got to be there.”

“Are you fucking listening to me, Remy? I can't do this anymore.”

“So what, you're quitting the band?”

“Yes, no, I don't fucking know! I need some time to work out what's going on in my head.”

“So you headed to Theresa's to do that?”

“I only stopped by to say hello and return something of hers that she left in my hotel room. Does it really fucking matter where I am?”

“Yes, it does! You know John's going to ask and what am I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell him I'm at my place in Brooklyn. I got back a little bit ago,” Bobby said.

“You know he's just going to go there then.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that's what needs to happen,” Bobby said, sighing into the phone. “The two of us need to have it out in private, not in front of you lot.”

Remy just shook his head. “If you split this band up...”

“I don't want to!” Bobby exclaimed. “But it can't go on this way anymore.”

“I understand, Bobby, I do. But if you fuck everything up for the rest of us...”

“I don't want to,” Bobby said again. “I really, really don't. But I might have to for my own sanity.”

Remy sighed. “Fine, but I'm telling John as soon as we hang up.”

“Oh, do whatever you fucking want. You're going to anyway.”

“John will be there soon!” Remy called out.

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Bobby said, and then he hung up.

Remy groaned and looked over at Marie. “This is not good.”

“Doesn't sound good,” Marie murmured, running her fingers through Remy's hair. “You going to call John?”

“Yeah,” Remy said, leaning over to kiss her. “I'm sorry about this.”

“Don't be,” Marie said, sitting up. “I'm the one who sprung all this on you tonight. I'd think band business would be a welcome distraction.”

Remy reached for her and clasped his hand around her wrist. “Marie, I don't want to be distracted from your life. I want to be a part of it. And unfortunately, this is part of it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Marie said, pulling her arm free and standing up. “I'm going to go get some more whiskey. You call John.”

“Alright,” Remy said, reaching for his phone again. “God, this is such a fucking mess.”

“It's their own fault,” Marie said. 

“I know,” Remy said, sighing heavily. “I'm worried about both of them, I'm worried about the band, I'm worried about everything right now.”

“It's understandable,” Marie said, heading for the doorway. “Call him. I'll be back.”

**********

John pounded on the door to Bobby's place, not caring about how much noise he was making despite the fact that it was almost four o'clock in the morning. “Bobby, open up this fucking door!”

He pounded on the door again until he heard the sound of the locks being undone, and then the door flew open, Bobby standing before him in nothing but a pair of boxers. “You want to wake up the whole block, John?”

John shoved Bobby backward and walked into the house, setting his guitar case down on the floor before reaching back and closing the door. “What the fuck is this running away to Philadelphia shit all about?”

“Oh, like you don't fucking know!” Bobby walked further into the house and headed towards his bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and putting it on. “Say whatever you want to say and then get the fuck out.”

John reached for his guitar case and opened it up, taking out the acoustic guitar and walking over to the sofa. He sat down and balanced the guitar on his knee, took a deep breath, and started to play.

Bobby heard the notes from inside his bedroom, and when he realized he didn't recognize the song, he slowly walked out of his bedroom and down the hall to the sitting room. He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to prepare himself for whatever was going to come out of John's mouth.

_If someone asked me tomorrow for the story of my life_  
_I'd tell them about you_  
_If someone asked me tomorrow if I had a wife_  
_I'd tell them about you_  
_I know I've made mistakes when it comes to you and I_  
_And I know that I don't have any good reasons why_  
_But hurting you is the last thing I want to do_  
_Because of the fact that I love you_  
_And I know that I've never said it before_  
_I know that you want to slam this door_  
_But I can't live without you by my side_  
_Need you to be part of this crazy ride_  
_Because the truth is I love you_  
_And I hope it's not too late to tell you_  
_If someone asked me tomorrow who hung the stars_  
_I'd tell them about you_  
_If someone asked me tomorrow who stole my heart_  
_I'd tell them about you_  
_I know that I've fucked up a million times_  
_I know that I can't apologize for all my crimes_  
_But hurting you is the last thing I want to do_  
_Because of the fact that I love you_  
_And I know I've never said it before_  
_I know you want to slam this door_  
_But I need you by my side_  
_Have to have you as part of this crazy ride_  
_Because the truth is I love you_  
_And I hope it's not too late to tell you_  
_There's been others, this you know_  
_But in the end, they always go_  
_I can't commit to them with all my heart_  
_Because it's been you right from the start_  
_And I know that seeing me with them has to hurt_  
_But hurting you is the last thing I want to do_  
_Because the truth is I love you_  
_The truth is I love you_  
_I love you_

John finished playing the song and looked up at Bobby. Neither of them said a thing for several minutes until Bobby finally coughed.

“You should let the band record that. It would sound great with Kitty on vocals.”

“For fuck's sake, Bobby, that's all you have to say?” John set the guitar down on the table in front of him and bent down to put his head in his hands. “Have I really fucked this up beyond repair?”

“So you wrote me a song,” Bobby said. “Is that supposed to make everything better? Because it doesn't.”

“No, it's not supposed to make everything better,” John said, pulling at his hair with his fingers. “But I thought it might be a good place to start. I didn't know how else to say it.”

“It's three words, John. Three very simple words. You knew exactly how to say it, and you have had millions of opportunities to do it, and you just piss them all away. So you waltz in here at fuck o'clock in the morning and play me a song with the three words in it and that's it? That's the way it has to be? You can't even just say three simple words to my fucking face?” Bobby sighed heavily. “You still can't do it, can you? You can't look at me right now and say it.”

John stood up and stalked over to where Bobby was, pushing him up against the wall and staring straight into his eyes. “I love you. I motherfucking love you. Is that what you want?”

Bobby shoved John away from him. “You don't mean it.”

“Bloody motherfucking hell, Bobby!” John yelled. “What the fuck do you want from me? I do what you ask and you can't even believe that I mean it!”

“Exactly!” Bobby said. “You did it because I asked! Not because you wanted to, but because I asked. You want me to believe that? You want me to believe that song? Fucking surprise me with it. Blow me away with it. Don't just do it because I asked.”

John walked back over to the sofa and sat down, running his hands over his face. “Are you even going to give me a chance to fix this?”

“Why should I? It's just going to end up like this again. It always does.”

“I cannot change the way I am, Bobby,” John said, and Bobby waved at him dismissively. 

“You won't admit to yourself who you really are,” Bobby challenged him. “You say you love me, John. You whisper promises in my ear every time we fall into bed together about a future that if you would just admit to yourself who you really are we might actually get to have. You are not straight, John. You might not be gay, but you are not straight. Is being bisexual really that fucking hard to admit to yourself?”

“You know how I grew up,” John said seriously. “You know what's ingrained in my head.”

“It's ingrained in my head too, asshole,” Bobby said. “I'm just okay enough with myself to realize that the stuff in the Bible is bullshit. A book can't explain away my feelings, John. A book can't tell me not to feel the way I feel about you. I'm intelligent enough to realize that. And you are too if you'd just let yourself.”

“Doing that...” John trailed off for a few moments. “Doing that, making the commitment, having that future. It would cost me so much.”

“You will never know if your parents will accept it unless you present them with it,” Bobby said softly. “I know your sister will.” 

“You don't know anything.”

“John, Catherine is a civil rights lawyer who specializes in LGBTQ cases.”

“And that's why my parents barely speak to her.”

Bobby groaned in frustration. “God fucking dammit John! Grow some fucking balls and making a motherfucking decision!”

“I've made my decision,” John said. “You just don't like it.”

“No, you've avoided making a decision,” Bobby spit out bitterly. “In the meantime, you humiliate me anytime any one of our friends brings up our relationship. 'Oh no, there's nothing going on between me and Bobby.' Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that? Deny it all you want to the motherfucking press, but to the people that actually know about it? You can't even be honest with them?”

“It's none of their business, so yes, I deny that it's happening. They don't have a clue what goes on between us and it needs to stay that way.”

Bobby felt anger flare up in him and he grabbed some decorative vase thing that his mother had put on a shelf that was near him and threw it towards John, who jumped when it shattered against the table. “You are a motherfucking asshole that I never, ever, should have wasted my time on. Get the fuck out.”

“Bobby...” John started, standing up, but Bobby just grabbed another one of the vase things and threw that at him.

“I said get the fuck out!”

John ducked the vase and walked quickly towards Bobby, grabbing his hands when Bobby attempted to push him away, forcing himself close to him. “Bobby, stop.”

Bobby fought against him for a few moments before limply falling back against the wall. “I hate you,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. “I love you so much but I hate you too. You have shattered me, John, and I don't have the faintest idea of how to put myself back together. You have ruined me. Ruined me.”

Bobby dropped his head down as the tears started to fall, and John gathered him into his arms without another word. Bobby went willingly, burying his head in John's neck and sobbing against him. After a few minutes, John bent down and picked Bobby up, carrying him into his bedroom and lying him down on the bed. After stripping off his jacket, John joined him on there, and Bobby wrapped himself around him again, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I hate you,” Bobby whispered again, and John felt the tears well up in his own eyes. 

He was the worst kind of piece of shit that existed on the face of the Earth. He really was. To have hurt Bobby this much – to have hurt him to the point of Bobby saying he'd ruined him – John didn't have words to describe what kind of a motherfucking douchebag he was.

And he had no idea how to fix this. Absolutely no idea how to fix it.


	12. Chapter 12

“Good morning, Marie.”

“Doug, what the fuck are you doing calling me at six a.m.?” Marie asked.

“I am calling you because a car is coming at eight to pick you up and take you to breakfast with my mother at Astor Court,” Doug said. “Dress appropriately because the air is beginning to have a chill in it.”

Marie laid there for a moment before shaking her head. “Doug, I am not going to have breakfast with your mother.”

“Yes, you are,” Doug said slowly. “I'm telling you to.”

“You do not get to dictate my life,” Marie seethed.

“Of course I do, Marie. That's what the contract says.”

“I haven't signed it.”

“But you will. Eight o'clock, Marie. Don't be late.”

“You are such a lousy son of a bitch,” Marie spit out, hanging up the phone and throwing it onto the bed. “God I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” came Remy's voice, and Marie looked up to see him walking into the room. “Not me, I hope.”

Marie smiled and stepped forward to meet him, kissing him softly. “No, I was just on the phone with Doug.”

Remy's face showed his disgust. “Why were you talking to him?”

“Because he called to tell me he's having me picked up at eight to have breakfast with his mother,” Marie spit out as she sat down on the bed. “So I can't be here at eight o'clock.”

Remy sat down next to her and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “So come with me.”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea,” Marie said, looking Remy in the eyes. “Besides, I need to call Charles.”

Remy smiled. “Well, I got a message this morning canceling today's studio session because Bobby and John have made it clear they aren't coming in. We could go to my place, you could call Charles from there, then have breakfast, and maybe go to a film afterward.”

“That sounds great,” Marie murmured. “But I doubt that Erik is going to be happy about us being seen in public again.”

“I don't care about what Erik thinks,” Remy said strongly. “I do care about you, however, and I want to be here for you when you need me, and right now, you need me.”

“I like that I can count on you,” Marie said softly. 

“Marie,” Remy said seriously. “You can always count on me. I promise I will do my absolute best to never let you down. I can't promise you that I will never let you down, obviously, but I will do my damnedest not to. I just want to make everything great for you.”

Marie took a deep breath. “Honestly? The last few weeks with you here have been great. It's been a long time since I've felt like that, just being around someone who actually cares about me.”

“I cannot put into words how much I care when it comes to you,” Remy said, grinning. “And I will be here as much as I can.”

Marie stared at him for a moment. “Not going to lie. That kind of scares me.”

“Don't be scared, darling,” Remy said. “Just let me be here.”

“Okay,” Marie said, standing up. “So was it an epic message from Storm?”

Remy fished his phone out of his pocket as he stood up, bringing up the message. “It reads, and I quote, 'Because two of you fuckheads cannot follow your schedule and have decided to fuck off to do God knows what, today's studio session is off. But you motherfuckers all better be there tomorrow at ten, or I'm calling the label and telling them how much you're fucking around instead of focusing.' Not the most epic text I've ever gotten from Storm, but one of the good ones.”

“She sounds lovely,” Marie said, laughing.

Remy laughed. “She's great, really. But she hates it when we fuck around with her studio time.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Marie said as she walked out of the room. “So, where should we go for breakfast?”

**********

Marie and Remy walked out of the cinema and into a sea of flashbulbs. Marie immediately held up her hand to block the flashes from her sight, and Remy wrapped a protective arm around her waist.

“Remy! Marie! Can you tell us about your relationship? Marie! Remy! How long has this been going on? Is an engagement near? Remy! Marie!” came various voices from the crowd with the photographers, and with every word they said, Marie's anger level increased.

Remy grabbed Marie's hand and started walking down the street, the group of photographers following them. They'd taken the train to this cinema, so there was no car to escape to. He searched for someplace to go, and that's when he spotted Darwin standing across the street in front of one of the cars he was usually driven around in. Remy sighed with relief and steered Marie in Darwin's direction, and Darwin opened up the door to the backseat as soon as they were close enough.

Marie got into the car first, and then Remy climbed in, and as soon as his door was shut, Darwin got into the front passenger seat and nodded at the driver. As the car sped off, Remy and Marie tried to catch their breath. 

“Darwin, I don't know how you knew that we would be there, but thank God you were.”

Darwin turned around to look at Remy. “Emma was monitoring Twitter when there was a flurry of tweets about you two being seen at the cinema. Then there was a flurry of tweets about the growing number of photographers outside the cinema. Erik sent me over here straight away. I would have been closer, but there were too many of them right in front of the cinema.”

Marie just shook her head. “Why are they so interested in us? They can't even give us some privacy?”

“You know why they're so interested in us,” Remy said, glancing over at her. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Marie said. “There were a lot of cameras.”

“Yes, there were,” Remy said, running his hand along Marie's back. “I'm sorry, Marie.”

“It's okay,” Marie said. “It 's not your fault.”

“Where are you taking us?” Remy suddenly asked, realizing with a look out the window that they were headed to a different part of the city than where either he or Marie lived.

“Erik's,” Darwin said, turning around to face front again. “His orders.”

Remy groaned and leaned his head back against the seat. “Be honest with me, Darwin. How bad is this?”

“Erik's furious,” Darwin said. “That's all I know.”

The car pulled up to a gate and the driver rolled down the window, punching the code into the keypad. The gate began to open and then they were driving through it and up to a big house. When the car came to a stop, Darwin and the driver got out and opened up the doors to the backseat, leaving Remy and Marie with no choice but to get out.

“No matter what he says,” Remy said softly, “I love you and I'm not letting you go.”

“I don't want to make your life more difficult,” Marie responded, looking over at him as Darwin rang the bell.

Remy squeezed Marie's hand. “You don't. You make it more wonderful.”

The door opened, revealing a man. “Darwin, how wonderful to see you again.”

“Hello, Charles,” Darwin said, stepping to the side and motioning to Remy and Marie. “Just a delivery for Erik.”

Charles looked over at Remy and just shook his head. “Come on in, Remy. Erik's waiting for you guys in his study.”

Remy stepped forward as Darwin began to walk away, giving Charles a hug. “Charles. How are you today?”

“I'd be a lot better if Erik wasn't cursing at everyone and everything,” Charles said, smiling at Marie. “Erik isn't going to hold back, by the way.”

Marie gave Remy a hesitant look, but Remy just nodded. “Charles, you know Marie.”

“Hello,” Marie said, smiling at him. “It's nice to see you again.”

“It's wonderful to see you as well. You know where Erik's study is. I have to get back to working on a case,” Charles said before walking away.

Remy walked over to Marie and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her. “He's going to yell at me way more than he's going to yell at you, but it doesn't matter. I love you and I want the world to know it.”

Marie nodded. “Right. We're doing this for us. We're in this together. The socialite and the rock star.”

“The socialite and the rock star,” Remy repeated, grinning at her. “Come on.”

Remy took Marie by the hand and led her down the hall and around the corner to where Erik's study was. He knocked on the door and heard a curt “Come in!” from inside. He took a deep breath and opened the door, walking inside with Marie right behind him. 

“Hello, Erik.”

“Sit the fuck down,” Erik said, pointing to the sofa. “Hello, Marie.”

“Erik,” Marie said as she sat down.

“How many times have I made it clear to you that I wanted no photographs of you with her?” Erik yelled, staring straight at Remy. “Because it's at least two, if not more! And yet you don't listen!”

“I have told you on many occasions that when I fell in love I was not going to hide it from the fans,” Remy started, jumping when Erik suddenly threw the book he was holding across the room.

“And how many times have I told you that's not acceptable?”

“Scott and Peter get to get married and Sean gets to fuck around with Moira but the moment I get a girlfriend, I'm not allowed to be seen with her?”

“They are not the lead singer! They blend into the background compared to the lead singer!”

“So this is because I'm the lead singer? How hypocritical of you.”

“You are the face of the band!” Erik yelled. “You are the one all the screaming girls come for! And if they think they don't stand a chance with you, they are going to stop coming!”

“Good!” Remy yelled back. “I don't want girls coming to our shows just to try and snag me or one of the others! I want them to come for the music!”

“The music is secondary!”

“How is the music secondary? The music is the most important thing in the world to the band!”

“You have an image! You have to maintain that image! You are ruining a carefully crafted image! And this is not just coming from me! This is coming from the label! I've heard from Howlett on this! 'Why don't you have things under more control, Erik?' Because my lead singer is a motherfucking fuckwit, Logan!” Erik stalked across the room and picked up his book. “I need you to fucking listen to me for fucking once, LeBeau! Not go parading around New York with her!”

“Fuck your fucking image!” Remy screamed, standing up and pulling Marie up will him. “I am not giving up the love of my life for a fucking image!”

Remy pulled Marie towards the door, but Erik ran over and got in front of them before they could reach it. “The love of your fucking life? Oh, give me a break, LeBeau. You'll be back pulling groupies in no time.”

“No,” Remy said, his voice quiet but serious. “I won't. I've got the woman I want. This is it for me.”

“Oh fuck me,” Erik said, leaning up against the door. “Hank told me you were acting like a lovesick idiot but I didn't think it went this far.”

“I have the right to be in love,” Remy declared. “And you can't take that away from me just because of some fucking image.”

“Do you know how hard I've worked to craft this image?” Erik said, reaching out and putting a hand on Remy's shoulder. “And now you're running around with Owen D'Ancanto's only daughter. A fucking socialite!”

Remy shoved Erik's hand off his shoulders and reached for the doorknob. “Fuck off, Erik.”

“I'm trying to do what's best for you,” Erik said, refusing to move from in front of the door. “I only have your best interests at heart.”

“You can control my career, but you don't get to control my fucking life,” Remy said sharply, shoving Erik out of the way and opening up the door. He pulled Marie out of the room and led her down the hall, seething with anger.

“Remy,” Marie said, stopping them. “You need to calm down.”

“How dare he say those things?” Remy exclaimed. “How dare he talk about you like that?”

“Remy,” Marie said again. “You need to calm down. Take a deep breath.”

Remy took a deep breath and pulled Marie into his arms, kissing her hard. “He can't tear us apart. Not after everything we went through to find each other again.”

“He's not going to,” Marie assured him. “But you can't go stalking around like a madman just because he said some things you didn't like. Take another deep breath.”

Remy took another deep breath and kissed Marie again. “I love you so much, Marie. You have no idea.”

“No, I think I do,” Marie said, pulling away from Remy as she heard footsteps getting closer.

Charles came around the corner and smiled. “Did he calm down?”

“What do you think?” Remy muttered.

“It's not just you. Some of his other bands are driving him insane right now too. I'll walk you to the door,” Charles said, leading them back down the hallway. When they reached the door, he touched Remy on the arm and got him to look at him. “Don't listen to Erik. If she makes you happy, then that's all that matters.”

Remy smiled. “Thanks Charles.”

Charles just smiled and opened the door. “The car is waiting there to take you wherever you want to go. Have a nice afternoon.”

Remy and Marie both smiled at him and then walked outside, heading towards the car. “How about we go get some ice cream at Serendipity like we used to?” he asked. “Does that sound good?”

Marie pretended to think about it, then nodded. “Sounds good to me.”


	13. Chapter 13

Remy had been staying with Marie for nearly a month when he answered the door on Tuesday afternoon, finding Doug on the other side. “Oh, it's you.”

“And it's you,” Doug said, walking into the apartment without waiting for the invitation. “Where is my fiancée?”

“My _girlfriend_ just ran down to the corner store,” Remy said, closing the door when it became obvious that Doug wasn't leaving. “You can fuck off at any moment though.”

“I shall wait for my _fiancée_ ,” Doug said, walking into the sitting room. “So why are you here? I was unaware that Marie had a roommate.”

“I'm not her roommate,” Remy said, trying hard to keep his composure. “Why are you here?”

“Picking up my fiancée for a trip to Dublin,” Doug said, sitting down on the sofa. “We have friends there that are dying to see her before the wedding.”

“Do you honestly think that she's going to marry you?” Remy asked, walking into the sitting room. “Last time she was going to marry you, you just dumped Marie as though she was nothing.”

“I did no such thing,” Doug seethed. “I made a serious error in judgment that I have corrected. She has forgiven me for it.”

“Sure she has,” Remy said sarcastically. “I'll be sure to let her know that.”

“Please do.”

“Why her?” Remy asked, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Why can't you find someone else?”

“There is no one else. That's why.”

The door opened before Doug could say another word, and Remy felt himself relax as Marie walked into the apartment.

“Doug!” Marie exclaimed, nearly dropping the bags in her hands.

“He just came in, I couldn't stop him,” Remy said, walking over to take the bags from her. “He won't leave either.”

“Why would I leave without Marie?” Doug said. “Now go and pack, Marie. We'll be gone for a week.”

“You can't make me go anywhere with you, Doug,” Marie said seriously, turning to face him. 

“Oh, don't worry,” Doug said, standing up. “I've already thought about all of that.”

Remy watched as he retrieved papers from his pocket and laid them out on the kitchen counter, smoothing them out. He set a pen down next to them and then reached out and wrapped an arm around Marie's waist, drawing her over in front of the kitchen counter. 

“One signature is all it will take,” Doug said, handing Marie the pen. “Just sign this line here, Marie.”

“And what exactly does signing this line do?” Marie asked.

“Make me your power of attorney, capable of making all of your decisions for you.” Doug put his hand around where Marie was gripping the pen. “Now sign it.”

Marie looked over at Remy, who was looking at her in alarm. She forced herself to take a deep breath and turned towards Doug. “No.”

Doug forced the hand holding the pen over the line that needed to be signed. “I said fucking sign it, Marie.”

“And I said no,” Marie seethed.

Remy walked over to them and shoved at Doug's shoulder. “Get your hands off of her.”

“Or what?”

Remy didn't hesitate. He just reached back and then punched Doug straight in the nose. Doug immediately let go of Marie and she moved away. 

“You lousy son of a bitch,” Doug exclaimed. “I think you broke my nose!”

“You never, ever, put your hands on Marie again, you hear me?” Remy said, seething with anger.

“Marie, call the police,” Doug demanded.

“Absolutely not,” Marie said. “You got exactly what you deserved. Now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Doug looked up at them and scowled. “You're going to regret this, Marie.”

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Marie said.

Doug growled, stalking to the door and slamming it behind him. 

Marie fell into Remy's embrace, and Remy wasn't expecting her weight, so they ended up sprawled on the floor. Marie grabbed Remy's right hand and gently kissed each of the knuckles, listening to him hiss. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I don't think so,” Remy said, flexing his hand. “Only one way to try it out.” 

Remy got himself up off the floor, reaching down to help Marie up. “Stay here.”

Marie watched as Remy dashed into the bedroom, coming back with the acoustic guitar he'd been playing around with at night. “Are you finally going to play me what you've been working on?”

“Maybe,” Remy said, leading Marie into the sitting room. “Sit on the sofa and listen.”

Remy sat on the arm of one of the chairs and propped the guitar upon his knee, then took a deep breath and started to play.

_It's been you right from the start_  
_I know we've both had broken hearts_  
_But those were lessons we had to learn_  
_Wounds and scars we had to earn_  
_I know you don't believe me when I say_  
_That as long as I see you it's a good day_  
_But when I tell you that I love you_  
_And I get that smile drawn from within you_  
_It makes me long for a house by the sea_  
_And you'll get your masters in Japanese_  
_Some might say it sounds like a boring life_  
_But I just want you as my wife_  
_No one makes me feel the way that you do_  
_And I've been through many who wanted to_  
_There's something about you, always has been_  
_You have my heart locked up in a pen_  
_And I don't want to escape_  
_I don't want my heart to break_  
_But when I tell you that I love you_  
_And I get that smile drawn from within you_  
_It makes me long for a house by the sea_  
_And you'll get your masters in Japanese_  
_There's nothing in the world that will change how I feel_  
_I can promise you, baby, this is the real deal_  
_It makes me long for a house by the sea_  
_And you'll get your masters in Japanese_

Remy played a few more notes before bringing the song to an end, and he took a deep breath before looking up at Marie. What he found was Marie sitting there with tears streaming down her face.

“Marie?” Remy asked, suddenly worried. “Marie, are you alright? Was it too much? Just say so and I'll back off, I swear.”

Marie waited until Remy had moved the guitar before launching herself at him, kissing him hard. “That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me,” she whispered in Remy's ear. 

Remy held her close as Marie started to cry again. “I love you, Marie,” he whispered. “I always have and I always will.”

“I love you too.” 

Marie finally pulled herself together enough to look at him, smiling when Remy's thumbs came up to wipe away her tears. Remy pulled Marie into a deep kiss, sliding his hands up the back of her shirt. Marie broke the kiss after a moment and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. “You know how I've been making you wait?” Marie murmured. “You don't have to wait anymore.”

Remy slid his arms around her waist and made sure he had a good hold of her before he stood up, Marie's legs wrapping around his waist, and he stumbled through the apartment until they were in the bedroom. He dropped Marie down onto the bed, then stripped his shirt off. “You're serious.”

“Serious.”

“You're not going to stop me?”

“Nope.”

Remy ran his hands through his hair for a moment, staring down at the bed where Marie was laying. “I need supplies!” he suddenly shouted. “Be right back!”

Marie laughed as he ran into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to take off her jeans. She was in nothing but lacy black underwear when Remy walked back into the room, and he nearly dropped what was in his hands at the sight. “You are stunning,” he said, crawling back onto the bed and hovering over her. “The most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

“You don't have to flatter me,” Marie whispered. “You've already got me.”

“Not trying to flatter, Marie,” Remy said simply. “Just stating the truth.”

He bent down to capture her lips, and once Marie started kissing him back, they found themselves lost in each other, and for the first time in a long time, they both knew it was exactly where they were supposed to be.

**********

Remy couldn't keep the smile off his face as he played _Masters in Japanese_ for the rest of the band. The moment he stopped playing, Storm started applauding from the booth. “That's the title track!” she said through the speakers. “It's brilliant!”

“Title track?” Remy said, taken aback by such praise. “No, it's an album track at best.”

“No, no, she's right,” Bobby said, already figuring out the chords on his guitar. “It'll make a great title track and fantastic contrast to _Let You Go._ ”

“So we're definitely putting _Let You Go_ on the album then?” Remy asked, reaching over and changing Bobby's finger position for a certain part of the song.

“Yes,” Bobby said, keeping his head down. “Kitty's going to sing it.”

“No, I'm not,” Kitty said firmly. “If we're putting that song on the album, you have to sing it.”

“I'm not singing it,” Bobby said curtly. “I don't sing leads on the albums. Only covers at shows.”

“Well that rule has to be broken for _Let You Go,_ ” Kitty said. “There isn't anyone who can sing that song with the emotion that it needs to be sung with but you, Bobby. It's too personal a song.”

The room fell silent and everyone's attention shifted to John, whose attention was focused on Bobby, whose attention was still on the guitar. After a moment, Peter reached out and kicked John in the back, making him yelp and spin around. Peter didn't say anything, just glared at him, and John swallowed hard before turning back around. 

“I think you should sing it, Bobby.”

Bobby looked up at that, his eyes not quite meeting John's. “Why?”

“Because Kitty is right,” John said. “That's your song, no one else's. It's too personal and the only one who can sing it right is you.”

Bobby let his eyes flick up to meet John's for a second and then went back to figuring out the chords to Remy's song. “I'll think about it.”

“Well, that's better than no, so we'll take it for now,” Kitty said before they were interrupted by Erik walking into the room with two police officers. 

“Remy LeBeau, I'm going to kill you.”

“Nice to see you too, Erik,” Remy said, standing up from the piano and glancing over at the officers. “Something I can help you with, gentlemen?”

“We're investigating a possible assault and have a few questions,” the first officer said. 

“Assault?” Scott exclaimed, but Remy just held up his hand.

“Relax, Scott, I know what this is all about.”

“You are Remy LeBeau, correct?”

“I am, yes.”

“We have a question about your whereabouts last night, Mr. LeBeau.”

“Of course.”

“Can you tell us where you were last night around six p.m.?” the second officer said.

“I was at my girlfriend's apartment,” Remy said, walking over to them. “Do you want me to confirm the address you already have, or can we just get this over with?”

“The penthouse apartment at The Strathmore, 400 East 84th?” the second officer said.

“That's the one, but you already knew that,” Remy said. “So Doug filed a complaint. What happens now?”

“We need you to come with us.”

Remy sighed and glanced over at Erik. “I had to hit him, Erik. You should have seen what he was trying to make Marie do.”

“I don't give a fuck what he was trying to make Marie do. I give a fuck that you're about to be arrested for assault.”

“Surely one punch to the nose does not equate assault charges,” Remy said as the first officer grabbed onto a hand and put a handcuff around it.

“The complaint says you did more than one punch, son,” the second officer said. “Unless you've got a witness to back you up...”

“I do,” Remy said as his hands were cuffed behind his back. “My girlfriend Marie. She was there. It's her apartment.”

“Then we'll go have someone bring her in,” the first officer said. “Until then, you've got to come with us.”

Erik sighed heavily. “Pray there are no paparazzi out front, Remy. Because if they get a photograph of you like that, I am not going to be happy.”

“Relax, Erik, this is all one big misunderstanding,” Remy said as the police marched him out of the room. “Just call Marie please!”

**********

Marie walked out of the police station, Remy at her side, to find Darwin leaning up against a large black car. “Hello Darwin,” she said. “Let me guess, Erik again?”

“You're very intelligent, Marie,” Darwin said, opening the backseat and motioning for them to get inside. “Erik is waiting for you.”

Marie climbed into the backseat first, then Remy, and they were both startled by the fact that Erik was already in the car waiting for them. Remy started to speak, but Erik just held up his hand.

“The label and I have already secured the services of Xavier and Company for your defense,” Erik said. “I want to kill you for being so stupid, but I have been advised against it. However, I must say that if I had been in your position, I would have had a difficult time keeping myself from punching that bastard.”

“How do you even know what happened?” Remy asked.

“Bobby told me,” Erik said. “You should have called me last night instead of him.”

Remy sighed. “I didn't think it was going to be a big deal. I thought he'd get on a plane for Dublin and forget all about it.”

“I should have known he'd stop at a police station on his way to the airport,” Marie said. “Doug is that big of a dick.”

“Are you going to fight him on this?” Erik asked. “We could probably get a really good PR spin on this whole situation if we pictured the two of you as a couple fighting to be together.”

“What happened to my fucking image?” Remy asked bitterly.

“I was wrong and I'm sorry,” Erik said, gritting his teeth. “Never tell anyone I said that. But seriously. We need to get a good spin on this. You know it's going to leak out.”

“I don't think we should be fighting this in the papers,” Remy murmured, but Marie shook her head.

“No, I think Erik is right. We could get the press on our side. _Vanity Fair_ has been begging me for a feature for months. I could give them one.”

“But you hate the fact that you're always in tabloids.”

“I do, but I'm willing to do it for us,” Marie said, giving Remy a shy smile. “You know, if you still want me around.”

Remy leaned forward and kissed her. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Erik coughed to bring their attention back to him. “I think it's best that we coordinate all of this through the band's press officer because I'm guessing you don't have one, Marie.”

“I don't have one personally, but the family does. Sebastian is a good guy. I'm sure he could coordinate with the band's press officer because I know my father is going to lose his mind over this and want some sort of control on the situation.”

“Emma doesn't work well with others.” Remy pointed out. “She likes to be in control.”

“Well, she's just going to have to learn to get along with this Sebastian guy,” Erik said, reaching for his phone. “Do you have this Sebastian's number? I'll message it to Emma and see if she can get in touch with him and start coordinating.”

“I don't, but I can call the house and get it quickly enough.”

“Call the house as though you're just calling your father,” Remy laughed. “How many assistants and secretaries does he have?”

Marie reached over and smacked him in the shoulder. “I honestly don't know. More than he needs, that's for sure. He is going to hate you more than ever, by the way. You punched the golden boy in the nose.”

“Of course he will. I'm the fucking rock star that's corrupted his perfect socialite daughter.”

“Yeah, now you are. He still hated you when you were nothing more than the boy wiping finger paint all over my designer clothes when we were six,” Marie laughed. “I still think he hates you more for that than for being the corrupting rock star.”

“The socialite and the rock star,” Remy said seriously. “We make too good of a pair to be apart any longer.”

Marie just smiled at him while Erik rolled his eyes. 

“You two are going to be more of a headache than Sean and Moira aren't you?”

Remy laughed. “I don't know what you're talking about, Erik.”

“Of course you don't. Lovesick idiot.”


	14. Chapter 14

John opened up the door to his penthouse, his eyes widening when he saw who was on the other side. “Bobby? It's two o'clock in the morning.”

“I need to play you something,” Bobby said, pushing past John and into the apartment with his guitar case.

John stood there for a moment before closing the door and following after him, finding him in the sitting room on the sofa tuning his guitar. “You need to play me something?”

“Yes,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “Sit down.”

John took a seat in one of the chairs across from the sofa and fixed his gaze on Bobby. “Alright, play.”

Bobby took a moment to make sure he really wanted to do this and then started to play.

_Every time someone calls us friends, I want to correct them_  
_Because if you think about it, we've never really been_  
_This connection between us has been more than friendship from the start_  
_And I don't know how I could live without that spark_  
_We fuck around on each other left and right_  
_It's hard to go a week without a fight_  
_But still there's something there that makes me stay_  
_Even when my mind tells me to run away_  
_I don't know if this is ever going to work_  
_But I know that leaving you would really hurt_  
_How can I explain how I feel to you_  
_How can I let you know that my heart is true_  
_I could forgo the other women for a start_  
_I could make sacrifices for my heart_  
_But I don't know if you're willing to do the same_  
_And I can't play any more of this silly game_  
_So tell me how to win_  
_Do you remember the first night we ever spent together_  
_I can remember every detail down to the feeling of the sheets_  
_In that cheap hotel room in Providence_  
_We woke up in the morning scared to death_  
_We didn't know what we had done and yet_  
_It felt so right waking up next to you_  
_Like I'd finally found the place I was supposed to be_  
_I don't know if this is ever going to work_  
_But I know that leaving you would really hurt_  
_How can I explain how I feel to you_  
_How can I let you know that my heart is true_  
_I could forgo the other women for a start_  
_I could make sacrifices for my heart_  
_But I don't know if you're willing to do the same_  
_And I can't play any more of this silly game_  
_So tell me how to win_  
_Tell me how to win your heart_  
_Tell me how to win your love_  
_Tell me how to make you mine forever_  
_I don't know if this is ever going to work_  
_But I know that leaving you would really hurt_  
_How can I explain how I feel to you_  
_How can I let you know that my heart is true_  
_I could forgo the other women for a start_  
_I could make sacrifices for my heart_  
_But I don't know if you're willing to do the same_  
_And I can't play any more of this silly game_  
_So tell me how to win_

Bobby finished playing the song and then looked up at John. “Tell me what I have to do.”

John blinked. “What?”

“I've obviously been doing something wrong,” Bobby said, putting the guitar to the side and dropping to his knees in front of John. “What do I have to do to make you love me?”

John let his head fall back against the chair and he stayed there for a moment before slamming his hand down on the arm. “Motherfucking shit, Bobby! What the fuck are you thinking?”

Bobby looked up at John in confusion. “What?”

John slid out of the chair until he was on his knees in front of Bobby. “It's not you, you motherfucking idiot!”

Bobby stared at him with hurt in his eyes. “What do you mean it's not me?”

“How in all of the attempted conversations that we have had since that morning did you come to the conclusion that the problem is with you?” John asked, reaching out to caress Bobby's face. “It's not you, Drake. It's me. I'm the fucked up one, not you.”

Bobby just shook his head. “No. No, no, no. There's obviously something about me that is keeping you from loving me. Whatever it is, Johnny, I'll change it. I'll stop it. Whatever it is. Anything. I'll do anything for you.”

John sighed heavily. “Drake, listen to me. You are perfect. Perfect. It's not you.”

Bobby's eyes filled with tears. “Then why don't you love me?”

John's heart broke at the look in Bobby's eyes. “I do, babe. I do.”

“No, you don't,” Bobby said, shaking his head as the tears started to flow. “This thing between us, this isn't what love is, John. The way you treat me? That's not love.”

“It's the only way I know how to love,” John murmured. “It's the way I was taught to love.”

Something in the way John's voice said that last sentence made Bobby pause. “What aren't you telling me?”

“I can't,” John said, shaking his head. “I can't.”

Bobby reached out and grabbed John's face, forcing him to look at him. “What the fuck are you not telling me?”

“Bobby, stop.”

“Motherfucking tell me!”

“I can't,” John pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. 

“Tell me!”

“I can't, Bobby,” John said, his voice trailing off. “I can't.”

“John, motherfucking tell me!”

“I've never told anyone. I just can't.”

“John, you're scaring me,” Bobby said seriously. “Tell me. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

John closed his eyes as the tears began to burn his eyes. “You're going to hate me.”

“I already do,” Bobby said. “Tell me.”

John stayed silent for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. “It was one of the priests at the church.”

Bobby stared at him in confusion for a moment before what John was trying to imply crystallized in his mind. “No. No. Tell me that didn't happen to you.”

“I was at the church a lot,” John choked out. “Altar boy. I don't think I was the only one. He made me promise to never tell.”

Bobby pulled John into his arms and John went willingly, burying his head in Bobby's neck and letting the tears fall. They stayed that way until John forced himself to stop crying and pulled back, looking at Bobby with red eyes.

“Do you see what I mean now? You're perfect, Bobby. I'm the fucked up one.”

“I want to kill him,” Bobby said, anger seeped into every word. “I want to go there right now and kill him.”

“He's dead,” John said, sniffling. “I thought that would give me closure. Guess not.”

Bobby reached up and wiped away John's tears with his thumbs. “Were you really going to go through life and never tell anyone?”

“It didn't seem relevant anymore,” John said, swallowing hard. “I honestly thought I had buried it. The fact that it came up tonight shocks the fuck out of me.”

“You should have told me years ago,” Bobby said seriously. “You should have told someone years ago.”

“I promised,” John whispered.

“Fuck that promise!” Bobby yelled. “You were abused!”

John flinched at the word and Bobby instantly regretted saying it. “I'm sorry. But you were.” Bobby leaned forward and pressed his forehead to John's. “I love you. This doesn't change that.”

“I'm so fucked up, Bobby,” John whispered. “I can't even love you right, the way you deserve. You're better off without me.”

“I think I'd die without you,” Bobby said. “Not literally, but it would feel like that.”

“I'm nothing more than a useless piece of shit,” John said, leaning back against the chair. “The only things I'm good at are playing bass and sex. Those are my specialties.”

“John, stop,” Bobby said. “You're better than that.”

“No, I'm really not.” John ran his hands through his hair. “I suppose you want to leave now.”

“What do I have to say to get it through to you that I never want to leave?” Bobby murmured. “I'd stay forever if you said the word.”

“That would just fuck us up even more.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Bobby asked softly. “I don't think you're going to want to answer it, but I think it's something I really should know.”

“You want to know if you're the only man I've been with besides...” John trailed off. “Other than that major fucking mistake I made with Madrox a long time ago, yes.”

Bobby closed his eyes and muttered a few words too low for John to hear. “Fuck. That explains so much and yet makes me regret so much at the same time.”

“No,” John said, reaching out to tangle his hand in Bobby's hair. “Don't regret it. Don't regret any of it.”

“We should have gone about it completely differently,” Bobby said. “I can't even imagine how much the first few times remind—” 

“Stop that right now,” John said, pulling on Bobby's hair to make sure he had his attention. “I don't want you to rethink a single moment of those early nights we spent together. Those are some of the most treasured nights of my life.”

Bobby stared at him for a moment before a soft smile crossed his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” John said, loosening his grip and letting his hand fall out of Bobby's hair and down to his shoulder. “You know what I think we need? Some whiskey, a couple of joints, and whatever horrible movie it is that's on television at this time of night.”

Bobby studied him for a moment. “You want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” John said, nodding. “I don't think I'll be sleeping for a while. Days maybe. This is always what happens when I remember.”

“Then I'm going to be here for every second of that,” Bobby said, standing up and holding out a hand to John. “You shouldn't be alone for that.”

John took his hand and let Bobby help him up, and then pulled Bobby flush against him. “As I said, you're perfect. Can I kiss you?”

“Since when do you ask?” Bobby murmured before nodding, and John closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together softly. 

When they pulled apart, John broke their embrace. “Okay, you know where the whiskey is, I'll get the weed, and we'll meet up in the bedroom?”

Bobby just nodded, knowing he'd give John whatever he needed at that moment. “Sounds good to me.”

**********

“I'm supposed to meet with the lawyers today,” Remy mumbled, shifting around so he could look at the clock on the bedside table. “In about an hour.”

“You should go then,” Marie murmured, pulling her pillow over her head. “What the fuck did we do last night?”

Remy stretched and let a wicked grin cross his face. “Well, first we went to that new club in Chelsea.”

“Ugh,” Marie groaned. “That's why I have a hangover.”

Remy shifted closer to her and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “And then we came back here and made love for hours.”

Marie lifted the pillow off her head to see Remy staring at her with love in his eyes. “That's why I'm so sore.”

“Sore?” Remy asked, suddenly filled with concern. “Why are you sore? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, no, no,” Marie said quickly. “It's just been a while since my body's been through such a workout. So I'm a little sore. It's nothing really. It's a good kind of sore. And it's getting better every day.”

Remy grinned at her. “Does this mean you've stopped thinking about six-year-old me when you want to have sex with me?”

“Was I able to suck your dick last night?” Marie asked, throwing the pillow at him. “Stop saying that or it's going to start happening again!”

Remy took the pillow and set it to the side, then leaned down and kissed Marie softly. “I really don't want to leave you.”

“But you have to,” Marie pointed out. “You need those lawyers to get you out of trouble. The press is already having a field day over it.”

Remy groaned and collapsed back to the mattress. “Don't remind me. Erik and Emma keep lecturing me.”

“Yeah, well, Sebastian has laid into me a few times too,” Marie said, reaching out to play with Remy's hair. “And your fans hate me. At least the _Vanity Fair_ feature will be out next month. That should win us some support.”

Remy looked over at her. “Have you been reading Twitter again?”

“Yes,” Marie said, smiling. “It's amusing to read how many different ways your fans can come up with to troll me.”

“You shouldn't read that shit, Marie,” Remy murmured.

“It's alright. I find it funny. I'm not taking any of it to heart.” Marie looked over Remy at the clock. “You really should get in the shower.”

“Join me,” Remy said, pulling at Marie's hand as he swung his legs out of the bed.

“No!” Marie exclaimed, laughing. “You'll never get to the lawyers on time if I join you in there.”

“That's kind of the point,” Remy said, still pulling at Marie's arm. “Come on.”

“I said no,” Marie said, pulling her arm back under the bedsheet. “You cannot be late for this. Erik would have both of our heads. This is something that has to be taken seriously.”

“I know you're right,” Remy said as he padded off towards the bathroom. “I just wish you weren't.”

Marie grabbed the pillow and stuffed it back under her head as the bathroom door closed. She had almost fallen back asleep when she heard her phone beep, and she reached out blindly to grab it off the bedside table. When she finally closed her hand around it, she turned her head so she could see it and clicked through to the message.

_John texted me and asked me to have “dinner, drinks, and sex” with him. I thought you said he was working things out with Bobby?_

Marie groaned and pressed a few buttons, bringing the phone up to her ear. Jubilee answered after a few rings.

“What am I supposed to say to him, Marie?”

“I have no idea,” Marie said, stretching lazily. “But I also don't know what you expect me to do about it.”

“Well, can't you ask Remy about it or something?” Jubilee asked. “I mean, he'd know what's going on between them, wouldn't he?”

“I wouldn't guarantee that,” Marie murmured, flipping over onto her back. “But I'll ask him if you want me to.”

“Please? I won't respond to John until I've heard from you.”

“Okay,” Marie said. “I'll ask him as soon as he gets out of the shower.”

“You mean you're not in the shower with him?” Jubilee laughed. “You two were scandalous last night, by the way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you need to see practically every paper's gossip sections. It's all you two all over each other in front of whatever club it is you went to last night.”

Marie groaned and slung an arm over her eyes. “Fuck, Erik, Emma, and Sebastian are going to kill us. I'm surprised the phone's not ringing off the hook.”

“Well, to be fair, it's nothing the press hasn't seen from you two in the last couple of weeks,” Jubilee said. “You've been doing this quite a lot.”

Marie laughed. “It's like a dam broke. We can't keep our hands off of each other.”

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts,” Jubilee said, laughing. “And ask him what I should do about John.”

“I will, I promise.”

Marie hung up the phone just as the bathroom door opened, and Remy came striding into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Who were you talking to? I heard your voice.”

“Jubilee,” Marie said, stretching. “John has invited her over for 'dinner, drinks, and sex.' She doesn't know what to do.”

Remy reached up and ran his hands through his hair. “She should do whatever she wants.”

“She's worried about Bobby.”

“I can understand that, but I think Bobby is also coming to the conclusion that John is never going to change, even with all this talking they've been doing. I'm pretty sure that we're not that far away from the actual end.”

Marie sighed. “I know that you guys don't think that it's for the best interests for the band, but for Bobby...”

“I think it'll actually get resolved in a way that won't hurt the band now,” Remy said, leaning towards Marie and kissing her softly. “You know, I think I have time for a quickie.”

Marie pushed him away and shook her head. “No, Remy. Get dressed and go to the lawyers. Apparently, we're all over the gossip sections today. We should probably be on our best behavior.”

Remy groaned and stood up, walking towards the chair where his clothes had ended up the night before. “Oh, alright. But only if we can misbehave later.”

Marie laughed and looked Remy up and down when he dropped the towel to the ground. “Oh, we can definitely misbehave later. I'm all for that.”


	15. Chapter 15

John kissed Jubilee hard, slowly inching her dress up until he had to break the kiss to whip it over her head and off. He dove back in for another kiss and started walking her back towards the bed, mentally kicking himself for all the thoughts that were going through his head. He had to block it out. He had to. This was not going to control him. The fact that he'd told Bobby didn't change anything. It was at the back of his mind and that was where it was going to stay buried.

Except that as soon as they dropped down to the bed and Jubilee ran her hands up John's back, he realized there was no way he was going to be able to do this. He broke away, rolling over onto his back and running his hands over his face, screaming. “I can't fucking do this. Fucking hell.”

Jubilee tried to catch her breath and looked over at John. “It's okay.”

“No, it's really not,” John said, throwing an arm over his eyes to make sure she didn't see the tears that were threatening. “It's really fucking not.”

“You're not in love with me,” Jubilee said. “You want to be with the one you love. I understand.”

John moved his arm slightly and glanced over at her. “You know, don't you?”

“About you and Bobby?” Jubilee asked. “Yes, no matter how much you tried to brush it off.”

“Fucking D'Ancanto. Fucking LeBeau,” John said, sighing heavily. “Fucking Drake.”

Jubilee rolled onto her side and reached out, tangling her fingers with John's. “So you're in love with Bobby, huh?”

“That's not why I can't do this,” John found himself saying, and then he bit his tongue. “But yes,” he said a moment later. “I'm in love with him. It's an incredibly fucked up kind of love, but it's love.”

“But fucked up in a good way, right?”

“Not exactly,” John mumbled. “Would it be incredibly dickish of me to ask you to leave?”

“Yes,” Jubilee said, squeezing John's fingers. “But I'll let you get away with it.”

John felt himself sigh with relief. “Thank you.”

Jubilee climbed off the bed and got redressed, then walked back over and put a hand on John's arm. “John? Call Bobby. I think it's what you need right now.”

“Why are you so smart?”

“An expensive education,” Jubilee said, laughing. “No, seriously. I've seen you two together. I think you're good for each other.”

“You shouldn't judge me and Bobby on what you saw during that tour,” John said seriously, still refusing to move his arm. “I was such an asshole on that tour. No wonder Bobby was ready to kick me out for good.”

“And I was a part of it,” Jubilee said, shaking her head. “No wonder Bobby hates me.”

“He doesn't hate you,” John said firmly. “And he's going to have to get used to the fact that we're friends.”

“Friends.”

“Yeah. I just can't have sex with you anymore,” John said, and he had absolutely no idea why he was telling this beautiful woman that they could never have sex again. 

“I understand. Really, I do. Call me. Let me know how things are with Bobby. I'll let myself out.”

“Thanks Jubilee,” John called out. “I'm sorry I fucked up your evening!”

“It's alright!”

John waited until he heard the door close before he bolted into the bathroom, retching into the toilet. He sat back against the wall and sucked in deep breath after deep breath until he felt like he could stand on his legs, and then he stumbled back into the bedroom. He collapsed onto his bed and reached for his phone, calling Bobby.

“'Lo?”

“Bobby,” John said, his voice hoarse and vulnerable, “I feel like I'll never be able to have sex again.”

John heard Bobby rustling around and he could tell instantly that Bobby had been working on another song. “Who did you try to fuck tonight and what happened?”

“Jubilee. And it went horribly wrong before we were even fully undressed.” John could hear the pain in the sigh that Bobby emitted at Jubilee's name, but he knew that was something they could work on at another time. 

“Is she still there?”

“No, I kicked her out. As nicely as I could, but I kicked her out.”

Bobby was quiet for a few moments. “John, have you ever thought about talking about what happened, what actually happened, with someone?”

“No, but I think I might need to.” John sighed heavily. “I guess I should find some ridiculously priced, uber-exclusive therapist to spill my guts out to.”

“I think it's probably a good idea,” Bobby said.

“Be honest with me,” John said after a minute. “This really didn't make you hate me more?”

Bobby sighed. “I never should have told you I hate you.”

“But you meant it,” John said. “And I needed to hear it.”

“Still shouldn't have said it. But to answer your question, no, this didn't make me hate you more,” Bobby said softly. “If anything, it's made me understand certain parts of our relationship better.”

“I don't understand how you ever fell in love with me,” John murmured. “I've treated you motherfucking appallingly. I've treated you like...there aren't words for how motherfucking awful I've treated you.”

“You have,” Bobby agreed. “You have treated me motherfucking appallingly. You have treated me motherfucking awful. But every time I look at you, I still see that guy I saw sitting under one of the trees at Columbia all those years ago, guitar in hand. I knew absolutely no one at Columbia. I had barely exchanged two words with my roommate.”

“You've never told me that.”

“I didn't want you to think that I was a friendless loser then, and after a while, it just didn't seem like something that I ever needed to tell you,” Bobby said. “But there you were and there was something about you that made me go talk to you. I've tried to tell myself for years that it was the guitar but I don't think that's right. I think it was just this absolutely fucking gorgeous guy that got my attention. I had no idea I could be attracted to a man, but I honestly think it was that.”

“Because if you think about it, we've never really been,” John said. “That line in the song you sang me the other day. You think we've never been just friends.”

“At least for me,” Bobby said. “I don't know about you, that's something you'll have to figure out on your own, but for me, yeah. I don't think I have ever been just friends with you, John. And I don't know that I could ever be just friends with you. So we either figure this the fuck out or we don't, but I would at this moment place money on the fact that you and I will never be just friends.”

“I'll have to think about some things,” John said. “But just because you see me as that guy from that day in Columbia, that doesn't explain how you fell in love with me.”

“At first it was your play. You bring a bass guitar to life in a way that I've never heard before. And then the first time you complimented a song I wrote, I felt like I could jump from here and land in France. I had no idea why, but it just gave me the most enormous feeling, the best feeling I'd ever had. Then it was your smile. It got to a point where it wasn't a good day if I didn't see your smile, and then even when I was having a good day, your smile made it a million times better if it was directed at me.”

John felt his throat tighten. “Bobby, stop.”

“No, you asked and I think you need to hear this,” Bobby said.

“No, seriously, stop,” John said, choking out the words as his eyes burned hot with tears. “You've said enough already. Enough to make me know that I'm an even bigger asshole than I thought I was.”

“John, I want you to feel awful about how you treat me, but what you told me the other day showed there's a reason for it. It's not just because you're the biggest asshole on the planet.”

“Yeah, well, reason or not, I'm still the biggest asshole on the planet,” John said, blinking hard and fast. “I don't know if I can ever give you what you want.”

“I know,” Bobby said softly. “I don't think you can ever give me what I want.”

“Then why are you even trying to save this?” John asked as a couple of tears slid down his cheeks. “If you know I can't give you that.”

Bobby was silent for several minutes, and John glanced at his phone a couple of times to see if the call had disconnected. “Bobby?” he eventually said. “Are you still there?”

“I'm trying to save this because, because I, fuck,” Bobby finally said. “I don't know if there's a future for us. If there will even be an us when we're forty or fifty or eighty. I don't know if the day the band decides to call it quits will be the last time we ever see each other. I don't think you'll ever be able to give up fucking women, I don't think you'll ever be able to give up your habit of denying what we have together, and I don't think you'll ever be able to look me in the eyes and say I love you and that I'll truly believe you mean it. I know all of that, John, and I still want to be with you anyway. That's why I'm trying to save this. I think that's where we should end this conversation. Find a therapist tomorrow. I think it'll do you some good. Goodnight.”

John brought the phone down from his ear and tossed it onto the bedside table. Then he rolled over onto his stomach, buried his head under his pillow, and cried himself to sleep.

**********

“You are the laziest group of motherfuckers I've ever seen! Three songs! You've managed to record three motherfucking songs in two and a half months! What is taking you so fucking long?”

The band looked through the glass window at their label representative, Logan Howlett, who was just shaking his head.

“It's just the creative process at work,” Bobby said, jumping when Logan slammed his fist against the glass.

“Fuck the creative process!” Logan yelled. “I want a completed album in two weeks!”

The whole band started to protest, but Peter was the loudest. “We can't finish a whole album in two fucking weeks!”

“The fuck you can't! You recorded your last album in a fucking month! You're already past that!”

“We had material then!” Bobby called out. “We don't have enough material right now to finish an album in two weeks!”

Logan slammed his fist against the glass again. “Figure it the fuck out! I want something in two weeks!”

The band watched as Logan disappeared from the booth, looking at each other in disbelief. 

“For fuck's sake, we can't do what he wants!” Scott exclaimed. “I'm not spending the last days of my wife's pregnancy being bossed around by the fucking label!”

Storm came on the speaker. “Let's just work on getting some more songs recorded, alright? I'll try to smooth Logan over.”

“Storm, you know as well as we do that we just don't have the material to finish a fucking album right now!” Bobby yelled. “The creative process takes time!”

“I know, but you've got to start coming up with something. Studio time is not cheap,” Storm said. “Now, let's try to get this song recorded. Let's try a take with all of you in there at once, record it like you're playing it live.”

Everyone in the band nodded and got ready, Remy looking to Bobby, who always counted them in. 

“And three, two, one.”

Peter started playing the opening notes on the piano, Bobby joining in after a couple of bars. Soon the whole band was playing the intro, and Remy smiled before leaning close to the microphone and starting to sing.

_I want to see your face every morning_  
_I want it to be the first thing I see when I wake up_  
_And every time I fall asleep, baby_  
_I want it to be with you cradled against me_  
_I've never wanted these things before_  
_You've changed my view on so many different things_  
_But now that I have them I can't let go_  
_So I hope you're planning on staying forever_  
_This was supposed to be a fling_  
_Never supposed to be a thing_  
_But now I can't stand when we're apart_  
_You've gone and stolen my heart_  
_I need you by my side for this crazy ride_  
_So tell me that you'll stay_  
_I love walking down the street holding your hand_  
_I love the glances that we share_  
_The simple ways we show that we care about each other_  
_I can't imagine my life without you_  
_I don't remember before I met you_  
_It's like my life truly began when we met_  
_So I hope that you're planning on staying forever_  
_This was supposed to be a fling_  
_Never supposed to be a thing_  
_But now I can't stand when we're apart_  
_You've gone and stolen my heart_  
_I need you by my side for this crazy ride_  
_So tell me that you'll stay_  
_Stay, for the rest of our lives_  
_Stay, for a million sunrises_  
_Stay, for a million sunsets_  
_Eternity spent together_  
_This was supposed to be a fling_  
_Never supposed to be a thing_  
_But now I can't stand when we're apart_  
_You've gone and stolen my heart_  
_I need you by my side for this crazy ride_  
_So tell me that you'll stay_

The band played the last few notes of the song and then looked up at Storm, who was smiling at them through the glass. “That sounded great,” she said through the speaker. “We'll probably have to record the vocals again so we can separate them out a bit, but I loved the sound of that. Come in here and we'll listen to it and see what you think.”

The band all set their instruments down and started to file out of the studio, John stopping to swing his arm around Bobby's shoulders. “Excellent song, Drake.”

Bobby smiled. “Thanks, Johnny.”

John leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I love every song you write.”

Bobby just nodded. “Good.”


	16. Chapter 16

Marie sighed as Sebastian dropped a magazine onto the table in front of her. “So there it is.”

She picked it up and stared at the photograph of herself on the cover, rolling her eyes at the teaser for the article. _Marie D'Ancanto dishes the TRUTH about Douglas Ramsey, her fight for her life, and her new rock star love_ was written on the right side of the cover, and it made her sick. She threw the magazine back down on the table and looked up at Sebastian. “How's the article?”

“Don't you want to read it?”

“No. Tell me.”

Sebastian sat down at the table and reached for the magazine, flipping through the pages. “I think it's very fair. They really focus in on the idea of you and Remy, how you knew you always wanted that but didn't realize just how much until you almost died, and how you know you can never have it with Doug.”

“Good,” Marie said, reaching for her cup of tea. “Have you coordinated with Emma about that? Surely there will be questions for Remy stemming from that article.”

“I, um, I've seen a lot of Emma recently,” Sebastian said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “We've talked about the article some. I'm sure she's prepared for whatever comes her way.”

Marie looked over at him and Sebastian ducked his head down, making her laugh. “Are you dating Emma?”

“We may have had dinner and drinks a few times,” Sebastian said, blushing. “But that's not what's important here. What's important here is the image of you and Remy that we want to project.”

“Sebastian.”

“What?”

“Don't be embarrassed to be dating someone.”

Sebastian sighed. “I was afraid you'd think it's unprofessional.”

Marie laughed. “Why on earth would I think that?”

“Your father did.”

“My father is a bastard. Never listen to him.”

“I kind of have to. He's my boss.” Sebastian set the magazine back on the table. “Honestly, I'm glad I'm focusing on you right now and not the campaign to make your father's new girlfriend likable.”

“My father's new girlfriend,” Marie said in disgust. “She's a total bitch.”

“And she's nineteen,” Sebastian said, drumming his fingertips on the table. “It's kind of complicated.”

“Nineteen?” Marie exclaimed. “What the fuck is my father thinking?”

“He thinks he's in love,” Sebastian answered. “He told me he plans to make her his next wife.”

“His next wife?” Marie growled.

“It was an offhand comment,” Sebastian pointed out. “Let's get back to you.”

“Must we?”

“Emma and I want to set up a photo op for you and Remy. Have you two go somewhere specific and then leak it to the photographers.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, why do we have to do that?”

“The more we keep you two in the public eye, the more the public gets used to you as a couple, the more the public gets on your side. And you're going to need the public on your side.”

“Did you bring the papers for the ridiculous lawsuit Doug filed?”

“The papers came yesterday,” Sebastian said, producing an envelope from the stack of things in his hands. “The details are in here. Your father has already been in touch with the lawyers.”

“I have my own lawyers,” Marie said, taking the envelope and opening it. “Xavier and Company.”

“Good firm,” Sebastian said. “I'll mention that to your father but I think he'll want you to use the family lawyers.”

“He doesn't get to decide that,” Marie responded, unfolding the paperwork and looking through it. “He filed an injunction to keep Remy away from him?”

“Apparently so,” Sebastian said. “I didn't quite know how to tell you that.”

“Well, I've got an appointment with my lawyers this afternoon. I'll let them deal with this.” Marie folded the paperwork back up and stuffed it into the envelope. “Is there anything else?”

“One more thing,” Sebastian said, taking a deep breath. “You've got to cut out the drugs.”

Marie looked over at him. “One, how do you know about that, and two, why?”

“We've paid off some dealers in the past to keep them from going to the papers about your habit,” Sebastian said. “Doug is going to use it against you. And you can't get caught buying right now. That would seriously hurt your image.”

“Fuck,” Marie murmured. “Fine.”

“It's for your own good.”

“So, when do you see Emma again?” Sebastian ducked his head down and Marie laughed. “Come on, tell me!”

“We're having drinks tonight,” Sebastian said, gathering up his stuff and standing up. “And that is all I'm telling you.”

“Fine,” Marie said, reaching out to grab the magazine before Sebastian could take it. “Leave that here.”

“Alright,” Sebastian said. “I will see you when I have more information.”

Marie nodded and Sebastian walked out of the room, the sound of the door opening and closing echoing through a few moments later. She stared at the magazine for a moment before opening it, flipping through to the article and the accompanying pictures. They'd made her up to look all glamorous and beautiful, the exact opposite of what she felt like in her daily life. She was still looking at the pictures and reading various paragraphs of the article when the door opened again, Remy walking into the kitchen moments later.

“Hello,” Remy said, tossing his keys onto the table and sitting down next to Marie, leaning over to give her a kiss. “Is that _Vanity Fair_?”

“Yes,” Marie said, still flipping through the pages. “Do you like me better when I look like this?”

She shoved the magazine over in front of him, opened to the first page of the article which was accompanied by a picture of her in a long, slinky evening gown, her hair styled in an elegant chignon. Remy stared at the page for a moment, then slid his chair closer to Marie's and leaned in to kiss her.

“You know when I like you the best?” Remy said, kissing along her jawline. “When we first wake up in the morning, and you're still sleepy, and your hair is a mess, and you're tangled up in the bedsheets. To me, that's the most beautiful sight in the world.”

Marie turned and captured Remy's lips with hers, kissing him deeply. “How do you always know the right thing to say to me?”

“It's a talent,” Remy said, smiling. He reached out and flipped the magazine shut, kissing her again. “While you're stunning in the photograph, I don't need you to look like that all the time to be happy with you.”

Marie put her head on Remy's shoulder, reaching out to play with the buttons on his shirt. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Remy murmured. “Just telling you the truth.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, then Marie laughed. “Did you know that Sebastian and Emma are dating?”

“No!” Remy said, looking over at her. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Sebastian was blushing about it and everything.”

Remy laughed. “Emma may thank me for this PR disaster yet.”

“PR disaster?”

“That's what she's calling it. It's only because she's not in control of the narrative,” Remy said. “I don't understand how me finally having a girlfriend is a PR disaster, but whatever. I don't really argue with Emma.”

“Studio was good today?”

“Yeah,” Remy said, smiling. “We got a couple of songs recorded, though I think we're going to have to go back and rerecord some of the second one. One of Bobby's compositions and one of mine.”

“Which one of yours?”

“That's a surprise,” Remy said, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Marie's. “Want to go out to dinner tonight?”

Marie lifted up her head and looked up at him. “Do I look like I'm wanting to go out to dinner?”

“You look beautiful,” Remy answered. “Besides, we have hours in which to get ready for me to take you out on a fancy date.”

“Fancy date, hm?” Marie sighed. “I have to go to talk to Charles this afternoon because Doug filed that fucking lawsuit.”

“Well, you can get ready after that.”

“He filed an injunction against you,” Marie said. “You can't go anywhere near him, which probably means that he's going to try and be sure that happens. I'll talk to the lawyers about it today.”

Remy shook his head. “I should really be more surprised about that than I am. He's so serious about you, so I guess that's why I'm not.”

“When it comes to me, Doug is always serious,” Marie said, squeezing his fingers. “Do you want to come to the lawyers with me? I don't really want to go by myself.”

“Should I?” Remy asked. “I mean, they're already dealing with the fucking assault complaint against me. I'm not sure I should be involved in this dispute too.”

“Doug has already included you in this dispute,” Marie pointed out. 

Remy kissed her. “True. When do we have to be at the lawyer's?”

Marie glanced over at the clock. “In an hour. Better leave now. Their office is all the way across town.”

Remy stood up and held out his hand to her. “Then let's go.”

Marie took a deep breath and put her hand in Remy's, letting him pull her up. “I love you, you know.”

Remy gave her a brilliant grin. “I love you too.”

**********

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, as you know, our bride and groom today are two people very close to our heart,” Remy said into the microphone, smiling at Peter and Crystal before them. “Peter is the best keyboardist this band could have ever asked for, and Crystal is the perfect person to balance out his batshit crazy.”

The guests all laughed. “In all seriousness, our newly married friends are two terrific people who deserve nothing but happiness and it is with that in mind that we, The Mutants, are honored to premiere this new song.”

Remy looked behind him at Bobby and Bobby adjusted the guitar strap on his shoulder before playing the opening notes. Remy turned back to the microphone and looked over at Kitty, ready to share the vocals with her.

_I knew I was gonna fall for you, boy_  
_I love you way you talk to me, boy_  
_I was all in before a kiss was had_  
_And baby, I was strong enough_  
_Baby, I was tough enough_  
_To throw my heart over the edge of this cliff_  
_And say it's yours and no one else's_  
_Wherever we are, you and I_  
_Oh, wherever we are, you and I_  
_We made a lifetime out of a surprise romance_  
_I knew I was gonna fall for you, girl_  
_I love the way you smile that smile, girl_  
_I was all in before a kiss was had_  
_And baby I was strong enough_  
_Baby, I was tough enough_  
_To tell the world you make me weak in the knees_  
_And that I want it to stay that way_  
_Wherever we are, you and I_  
_Oh, wherever we are, you and I_  
_We made a lifetime out of a surprise romance_  
_I've never been more at home than I am in your arms, boy_  
_I've never been more affected than I am by your charm, girl_  
_You fell from the stars, boy, and here we are now, insane kind of loving_  
_You hung the moon, girl, and here we are now, crazy kind of loving_  
_Wherever we are, you and I_  
_Oh, wherever we are, you and I_  
_We made a lifetime out of a surprise romance_

The final notes played out and Peter and Crystal stopped dancing, grinning at the band. The guests applauded too and then the DJ took over, so the band members made their way off the stage. Remy found Marie sitting at their table sipping at a glass of whiskey, and he smiled as he sat down next to her.

“What did you think?”

“I think that song better be on the damn album,” Marie said seriously. “I want to be able to listen to that whenever I want.”

Remy nodded. “I think once the label realizes how shitty the stuff they forced out of us is, they'll give us the time to make the album we want to make, and then we can actually record that song properly. It still needs to be fleshed out. It's too short.”

“No, I think it's perfect,” Marie said, smiling as Bobby sat down on her other side. “It doesn't need to be longer.”

“That's what I've been saying,” Bobby said, reaching for his glass. “How did you get more whiskey?”

“I flagged down a server and asked for it,” Marie said, looking over at him. “Simple.”

Remy sighed. “I just feel like it needs an instrumental opening. Something that sets the mood. I don't like how it jumps right into the lyrics.”

“I think that's part of what makes it great,” Marie said. “It's like you're in such a rush to tell everyone about this love that you can't wait through an opening. You've got to sing about it NOW.”

Remy leaned back in his chair. “I've never thought about it like that.”

“Neither have I but I love that, Marie,” Bobby said, reaching his arm up to flag down a waiter. “No wonder your songs have been getting better, Remy. You've got your muse, you're in love, and she's insightful when you ask her questions. I wish I had someone I could bounce stuff off of like that.”

Marie laughed. “I don't think he takes anything I say about a song seriously.”

“Oh, yes I do,” Remy said. “You have no idea how seriously I take it.”

“Well, you shouldn't,” Marie said. “I'm not musically inclined in the least. I don't know shit about how to write a song.”

“No, but you hear the songs the way a fan would,” Bobby said. “You hear them the way they would be if someone popped the album on. That's so important.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” they both said in unison. 

Marie just shook her head. “Well, okay then. I'll gladly listen to any song either of you wants to bounce off me then.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Bobby said, looking up to see John dancing with Jubilee. “Erik's furious that John brought Jubilee.”

“Peter said you losers were supposed to bring dates,” Remy said.

“Yeah, and Erik said we weren't,” Bobby said, polishing off his drink just as his new one arrived. “He's also not happy that Piotr Rasputin is here, even if he and Kitty are doing a good job of not being seen together.”

“Rasputin's here?” Remy scanned the room until he found him talking away with Sean. “I didn't know Peter invited him.”

“He didn't. He's Kitty's plus one,” Bobby said, sighing.

“I don't know what you're talking about Bobby,” came Kitty's voice, and she sat down next to Remy. “I don't have a date.”

Bobby just laughed. “Sure. Fuck, Kitty, I know what it's like, okay? You don't have to lie to me.”

Kitty's shoulders slumped. “Alright, alright. It motherfucking sucks. Better?”

“It's easier to talk about it,” Bobby said. “I've learned that throughout the years.”

Kitty took a long sip from her glass of wine. “Let's talk about the real gossip this wedding has presented us with.”

Remy groaned. “I don't want to hear any gossip, Kitty.”

“Hank is here with Raven Darkholme,” Kitty said, ignoring Remy. “ _The_ Raven Darkholme.”

Everyone looked over at the table Hank was sitting at and Marie saw a gorgeous woman laughing next to him. “You guys are going to have to help me out here. I have no idea who Raven Darkholme is.”

The three of them turned and looked at her like she was insane. “Seriously?” Kitty said. “Don't you go to the movies?”

“You know I'm not big on pop culture, and I haven't really been to the movies since that time Remy and I went and the paparazzi ambushed us,” Marie said. “So she's an actress?”

“She's won the Academy Award for Best Actress for the past two years,” Bobby filled in. “She's so talented.”

“How in the hell does Hank know her and how the fuck did Hank get a date with her?” Remy asked, looking back over at them. “I mean, he's Hank.”

“Hey!” Marie said, shoving at his shoulder. “Hank is a wonderful, extremely good looking man. He's charming and witty and has a killer sense of humor. He's quite the catch.”

“Got to agree with Marie on this one,” Kitty said. “I mean, yeah, he's Hank, but he's also a really great guy.”

The chair next to Kitty was pulled out and Piotr sat down in it, smiling at everyone at the table. “Hello, I'm Piotr.”

Everyone stared at him for a moment before Marie reached across the table and held out her hand. “Marie. It's wonderful to finally meet you, Piotr.”

“Marie!” Remy hissed, but Marie just shook her head. 

“What? I can't even introduce myself to the man? Fuck whatever it is Erik is thinking. He makes her happy. He's part of the circle now.”

Piotr reached out and tentatively shook Marie's hand. “It's nice to meet you, Marie. I've heard a bit about you.”

“Hopefully it's not the shit that's in the press,” Marie said. 

“Oh, hell no,” Kitty said. “I told him stuff I know to be true.”

More chairs were pulled out and John and Jubilee sat down, John right next to Bobby. “So, what are we doing? Plotting Erik's demise? Because you know his head is going to explode since you two have been seen in public together now, Kitty.”

Kitty sighed. “I hear he's pretty fucked off at you too.”

“Eh, I don't care,” John said. “I needed a date for the wedding.”

Bobby reached for his drink, and Remy and Kitty glared at John for a moment before John rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off. You both know that couldn't have happened.”

“He's right,” Bobby murmured. “Drop it.”

“So, Piotr,” Marie said, changing the subject. “Can you tell me a little more about your band? I love your music but I'm afraid I don't know much about the band itself.”

Piotr smiled at her. “Sure. I love talking all things Colossus.”


	17. Chapter 17

Remy smiled as he walked into the darkened room, setting his phone on the bedside table. “Marie, are you awake?”

“Kind of,” Marie said, lazily turning her head towards him. “What time is it?”

“A little after four,” Remy said, climbing onto the bed. “Rachel Anne Summers was born around midnight. I would have called then but I was caught up in the emotion of the moment. Scott is over the moon.”

Marie smiled. “They had a girl? Oh, Jean is going to love that. She was telling me she hoped they had a girl at some point so she could dress her up in pretty dresses.”

“Scott is going to be wrapped around her finger,” Remy said, kissing her softly. “I must say, Scott being a father now sort of makes me want to be one too.”

Marie narrowed her gaze. “We are not having children anytime soon, Remy.”

“Oh, is that so?” Remy asked, the look in his eyes telling Marie he was just being mischievous.

“Yes,” Marie said seriously. “First, we have to get married, and we're about a hundred dates or so from you being able to propose to me.”

“A hundred dates?” Remy laughed. “You've got this down to quite the specifics.”

“I'm just trying to say that we're nowhere near a marriage proposal.”

“So if I asked you to marry me right now, what would you say?”

Marie looked him straight in the eyes. “No.”

Remy recoiled. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Marie said. “We're not ready for marriage. We're not even living together yet.”

“Well, we sort of are living together,” Remy pointed out. “Either you're here at mine or I'm at yours every night. We're just living together in two different places.”

“I'm not moving out of my apartment.”

“Did I suggest that?” Remy asked. “But if we were to move in together, I would think my house would be better than your apartment.”

“I'm not disagreeing with that statement, but I'm still not moving out of my apartment. Not yet.”

“Or maybe we could sell your apartment and my house and buy a house together.”

“I don't think that's necessary.”

“I have been wanting a place out of the city to escape to on the weekends,” Remy murmured.

Marie sighed. “Why are you so talkative right now? Do I need to wear you out?”

“You already did,” Remy said, grinning at her. “When Scott called to say Jean was in labor and he wanted me there, I could barely stand because my knees were so weak. But now I've been there and my mind is going about this mess.”

“Mess?”

“Emma's words. She was there too.”

Marie reached out and tangled her hand into Remy's hair. “Well, if this is a mess, then I want to be in this mess with you for a long time. Maybe even forever.”

“But you still wouldn't marry me right now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Remy said. “I can't believe Scott is a father. I remember when he first met Jean. He was walking around all drunk on love. I suppose that I must seem that way to the guys right now because I'm definitely drunk on love for you.”

“Mm hm,” Marie mumbled, letting her eyes close again.

Remy rolled onto his stomach and reached out to tangle their fingers together. “Marie?”

“What?” Marie murmured.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“But I don't think you know how much.”

Marie opened her eyes just as Remy leaned in for a kiss. “Remy, if you don't let me get some sleep, you're going to have to find someone else to go home with tonight. Understood?”

“Sorry,” Remy murmured with a laugh, pulling a pillow underneath his head. “I won't disturb you with any more declarations of love.”

Marie closed her eyes with a smile on her face. “Thank you.”

**********

“Do you just attract trouble?” Erik asked, looking up at Marie as she set a cup of tea in front of him. “I've had more trouble with you two in the last three months than I'd had with Remy in the entirety of managing the band.”

Marie sat down and reached for her own cup. “Sorry, Erik. I know there's been some stuff in my life that has spilled over into Remy's, but it's just the way it is.”

“Look, it's not that I'm not happy that Remy has found someone to be with,” Erik said, sipping at his tea. “And I know it came across that way that day at the house and I'm terribly sorry about that but I was so furious with him. It's just that you represent so much of an image I've tried so hard to shred them of. Stupid posh university of theirs.”

“Everyone in the band was a student at Columbia except for Sean. And you really think that people would find him less appealing just because of where his parents sent him to school?” Marie just shook her head. “Shouldn't the music overcome that? Besides, Columbia's not that posh.”

“It's an Ivy League school. It's posh enough.” Erik set his cup down and looked across the table. “I'll be perfectly honest with you, Marie. Their music is nothing special. Sure, Bobby is a talented songwriter and Remy and Kitty can sing, but they're really no different from any other band that's out there at the moment. What sets them apart is their image. And that image has been carefully crafted by me and the label, and quite frankly, you're fucking it up.”

“I can't let him go if that's what you're trying to ask me to do,” Marie said, twisting her cup around. “I should have been with him the whole time.”

“That's not what I'm asking,” Erik said seriously. “I would never actively attempt to break you two up, and as I said, it's not that I'm not happy that Remy has found someone to be with. I just need to know if you're willing to work with me on trying to conform to the image. Or no, not conform, but help the image evolve to the point where people don't see you and think about what a rich, posh bastard Remy is.”

“He's not posh,” Marie pointed out. “I mean, yeah, he went to Columbia, but try convincing my father that he's posh. My father thinks he's the devil incarnate.”

Erik sighed. “That's another thing. Can you get your father to stop talking shit about Remy to the press? That's not helping.”

“My father does what he wants,” Marie said honestly. “And after the fight we had the other day about his nineteen-year-old girlfriend, I'm not sure my father will listen to anything I have to say about Remy. He never has in the past either. But I will try.”

“I would appreciate that,” Erik said, taking another sip of his tea. “Where's Remy at? Is he hiding from me?”

“He's not hiding,” Marie said, rolling her eyes. “He went to pick up Bobby and then they were going to the studio.”

“Why didn't you go with him?”

“Because I usually don't go to the studio. Also, you were coming over to talk to me,” Marie said, bringing her cup to her lips. “Or would you rather that I start skipping out on our meetings?”

“No, I wouldn't,” Erik said, pushing his empty cup away from him. “Are you going to work with me or not?”

“Of course I am,” Marie said. “I don't want you yelling at Remy all the time. I think you're a bit ridiculous with all this image stuff, and I think you're wrong about their music not being anything special, but I'm not here to try and fuck up Remy's career.”

“Good,” Erik said, standing up. “I have to convince the label to give the band more studio time. But I will be in touch.”

Marie stood up and walked Erik to the door. “I'll see you soon then.”

“Yes, you will,” Erik said, opening the door just as Doug was poised to knock on it. Erik looked at him and then sighed. “Great.”

“Doug,” Marie exclaimed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Doug said as Erik walked out the door.

“And that's my cue to leave. Bye, Marie.”

“Goodbye, Erik,” Marie called after him. “What do you want?”

Doug walked into the apartment and Marie sighed heavily before closing the door behind him. “I didn't say you could come in.”

“Your lawyers are persistent,” Doug said. “But I am here to tell you that I am willing to negotiate. I will allow you to play out your little relationship with him for a period of six months before you end it and we have our public reconciliation at Sardi's. That way, you can experience more of this rebellious lifestyle that you've adopted before you do the right thing and settle down with me.”

Marie laughed. “That's your negotiation? Six months of freedom and then become your slave? No, Doug. Not going to happen.”

“I am not trying to get you to be my slave, Marie. I am trying to make you my wife. Why do you not understand this?”

“I don't want to be your wife, Doug. Why do you not understand that?”

“Because you are clearly sick, Marie, and your words cannot be trusted. That's why the contract is necessary.”

Marie wanted to scream and yell and punch Doug just like Remy had done. Instead, she took a deep breath and composed herself. “I'm sick? Explain to me how I'm sick, Doug. This I have to hear.”

“I tried to negotiate a period of recovery for you at a private mental health facility, but your father insisted that you were fine. I figured that recovery could wait until you were my wife and your father no longer had any say in it.”

“I do not need any private mental health facilities,” Marie said, taking another deep breath. “Please leave.”

Doug shook his head. “Not until we reach an agreement.”

“I thought my words cannot be trusted.”

“I want an informal agreement in place before we put one into writing,” Doug said, sighing. “Are you having trouble understanding me?”

“Doug, you are suing me because I don't want to marry you. Just think about that for a moment. Why would I negotiate anything with you?”

“Because you are a stupid, vapid socialite and you need someone with some intelligence to think for you. That is why I am here.”

Now Marie really wanted to punch him. “Get the fuck out of my apartment before I call the police.”

“Fine,” Doug said, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulling out some paperwork. “I've withdrawn the injunction keeping LeBeau away as a peace offering.”

Marie took the paperwork and looked through it. “Thank you.”

“I'm still suing you, however,” Doug said. “And since you are not willing to negotiate, I will see you in court. Do try not to do anything silly in the meantime. I really don't want a stepchild.”

Marie clenched her hand into a fist as Doug opened the door and walked out. She really, really wanted to go after him and just wrap her hands around his neck and just squeeze until he could—

Marie forced herself to take a deep breath, and she reached for her phone. She dialed Remy and when he picked up, she spoke before he could. “Where are you at?”

“The studio,” Remy said, confused. “Why?”

“I'm coming there.”

“Marie? What's wrong?”

“I just saw Doug so now I must balance out his insanity with some of you. Is that alright?”

“Totally fine,” Remy said as Marie reached for her bag. “I'll see you when you get here, darling.”


	18. Chapter 18

“He lifted the injunction?” Remy said, his eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Marie sighed and leaned further into the sofa. “The paperwork's at my apartment. He called me stupid and vapid and he thinks I need psychiatric help.”

“Well, Doug is a dick. What did you expect?”

“I'd expect to be thought of in higher regard by someone who is going to such lengths to get me to marry them.”

Remy nodded and turned to Storm when she called his name. “Remy, we've got to record _Let You Go_ today or the label is going to kill us all.”

Remy sighed and stood up, heading towards the door that led into the studio. “Okay. Give us a few.”

Remy walked into the studio and got everyone's attention. “Storm says we have to record _Let You Go_ today, so Bobby, you have to sing it.”

“No,” Bobby said firmly. “No way. Kitty's singing it.”

“No one can sing this song with the emotion you can,” Remy said, sitting down on the stool in front of his microphone. “Kitty can't, I certainly can't. You have to do it.”

Bobby shook his head. “I said no.”

“Then it's not going on the album,” Kitty said. “Because it's either you sing it or we don't record it.”

“That's such bullshit,” Bobby said.

“I agree with Kitty,” Scott said. “You sing it or we don't record it.”

Bobby whipped his head around to glare at Scott, then went back to tuning his guitar. “Fuck off.”

“I agree too,” Sean called out.

“Me too,” Peter said.

“You know my feelings on the subject,” Remy said, and that left only one member of the band who hadn't chimed in, and everyone but Bobby focused their eyes on John.

John sat there for a moment before setting his guitar to the side and walking over to Bobby. “I think you should sing it. That's your song.”

Bobby set his guitar to the side and swirled around on the stool until he was facing John, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know why I can't sing that song.”

“No, I really don't, and whatever reason it is, it's a really ridiculous one,” John said firmly. “You wrote that song from a really emotional place, and you are the only one who can sing it that way. That's what makes the song work so well.”

“I am not having this discussion,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “I'm not fucking singing it.”

“I'll leave the studio. We can turn off all the lights so you can't see me. Just you and your guitar, like it was on stage that night. We can record all the other tracks afterward.”

“I'll never be able to sing that song the same way I did that night,” Bobby said softly. “Especially not now.”

“You're a brilliant musician, Bobby,” John said. “You found that place once. You can find it again.”

Bobby stared at him for a few moments, then sighed heavily. “Fine, I'll try it. Once. But if it's shit, then Kitty's singing it.”

“Alright,” Kitty said. “I'm good with that.”

Bobby sighed again. “All of you out of the fucking studio. Turn the fucking lights off.”

John walked away from him and headed for the door, disappearing from the studio. Remy walked over to Bobby and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“I know you can do this, Bobby. I know it.”

“I said get out of the fucking studio,” Bobby said, shoving Remy in the direction of the door. 

The rest of the band filed out of the studio, and Remy told Storm to turn the lights off before settling back down onto the sofa next to Marie.

“I love how John can convince Bobby to do pretty much anything.”

Marie only shook her head. “You take advantage of that too much.”

“Only when it comes to getting Bobby to sing,” Remy pointed out. “And this is Bobby's song. He had to be the one to sing it.”

The room fell silent when they heard Bobby play a few notes on his guitar. “Alright, Storm, start recording.”

As Bobby counted himself in, Kitty sat down next to Remy and Marie. “He better fucking do this because I do not want to sing this song.”

“He'll do it,” Remy said confidently. “He's not that far removed from that place that he can't find it again. It's not like they've fixed things.”

“John's trying.”

“That's surprising.”

“Not really.”

“You would know. You're the one he talks to.”

“He's in therapy,” Kitty said so quietly only they could hear. “He won't tell me why, but he admitted it to me the other day. I think that's probably a good thing.”

Remy looked over at her. “Therapy? Seriously?”

“Shh,” Kitty shushed. “Keep it quiet. No one but me is supposed to know.”

Bobby began to sing, and it was obvious from the first few words that he had found that emotional place he'd been in again. Before he'd even hit the first chorus, John walked over to them.

“For him to be able to slip into that place so easily, I just...I'm oddly proud of it.”

“You're a motherfucking bastard,” Remy said.

“Aw, I love you too, Remy.”

“You shouldn't be so proud of the fact that he can get to that kind of a place about you,” Kitty pointed out.

“I'm not,” John said. “I'm proud of the fact that he can go back to that place even knowing what he knows now.”

Remy and Kitty exchanged a look, but John just walked away. 

“What was that all about?” Remy asked.

“I am not sure I even want to know,” Kitty answered. “I'm just glad I'm not going to have to sing this song.”

**********

“I am so glad we got a song recorded today and that you were there to witness it,” Remy said, shifting around so he was looking at Marie.

“Me too,” Marie said, reaching out to play with Remy's hair. “I never realized how much went into putting one song together before.”

“Neither did we until we signed the recording contract,” Remy said, smiling. “We make much better music now than we did then. I can barely listen to our first album.”

“Your first album is great. After all, _Back To Wonderland_ is on that album.”

Remy laughed. “That's about the only song I can stand. The rest are just cringe-worthy.”

“Oh they are not,” Marie said, shoving at his shoulder. “You guys play a couple of songs off that album at every concert you do.”

“Have to play the hits,” Remy said softly. “So, can I broach a subject that we haven't talked about in a while?”

Marie sighed and rolled onto her back. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Remy nodded. “We're practically living together already.”

“I know,” Marie said, reaching out to pull Remy closer. “It's just...making it official is kind of overwhelming.”

“But you're not against the idea?”

“No, I'm not against the idea,” Marie murmured. “I just need some time to think about it.”

“I'll give you all the time in the world,” Remy said, bending down to kiss her. “But I want to actually talk about it.”

“We can talk about it,” Marie said, pushing Remy onto his back and shifting to rest her head on his shoulder. “I really want to move in with you. I'm just not sure now is the right time.”

Remy looked over and saw the sincerity in Marie's eyes. “Marie...”

“With all this Doug stuff going on...”

“I'd think that would be all the more reason to move. He doesn't know where I live. He wouldn't be able to find you there,” Remy murmured. “And once I have you there, I'm never going to let you leave. The socialite and the rock star, for the rest of our lives.”

“Okay, now you sound like you're asking me to marry you,” Marie said, shaking her head.

“I've made no secret of the fact that I want you to be my wife, Marie,” Remy said, running his fingers through Marie's hair. “I'd go to city hall and marry you today if you said we could.”

“There is only one place where I'm getting married, and that's the cathedral near my father's estate,” Marie said firmly. “My father will not stand for anything else, and he's going to be mad enough about us getting married.”

“Alright, so we'll get married in the cathedral,” Remy said, smiling. “You know you haven't told me no yet.”

“I know,” Marie said softly. “And that's because we just had this conversation. Or do you not remember that?”

“I do,” Remy answered. “You told me I had to take you on a hundred dates before I could ask again.”

“Yes, I did. And we haven't been on one.”

“We've been on more than one! We've been on at least twenty!” Remy exclaimed. “Besides, I think you're being silly with this hundred dates thing. You can't expect me to take that seriously.”

“I didn't mean it that seriously. It was just a reference on how far away we are from marriage.”

“So the next logical step is moving in together,” Remy said. “Why can't you just agree to that?”

Marie took a deep breath. “Because I'm scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared that this isn't going to work,” Marie murmured. “Scared we're moving too fast. Scared that I'm going to lose you.”

Remy rolled Marie onto her back, sliding on top of her and giving her a long, deep kiss. “It's going to work, we're not going too fast, and you're never going to lose me.”

“Easy for you to say,” Marie whispered. “Why is this so easy for you?”

“Because I've been in love with you since we were teenagers, Marie. And if you think long and hard about it, you'll realize you've been in love with me since then too. That's half of my life that I've spent loving you. That's how I know this isn't moving too fast. It's not moving fast _enough_ for me. I always dreamed that we'd be settled down with a family of our own by now. I understand that a lot of things have happened to keep that dream from happening, but I feel like it's so close to me now I can almost touch it, and you keep yanking it a little farther away from me.”

“I don't mean to,” Marie said. “I do love you and I probably always have. But I told you once that everything is too overwhelming for me and I was going to need time, and you said you'd give me that.”

“And I will,” Remy said. “But it's not going to stop me from asking you to move in with me.”

Marie swallowed hard. “Alright, I'll make you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“I will move in with you on a trial basis. And if that works, then I will move in permanently.”

Remy grinned. “Deal.”

“Now let me up. I've got to get breakfast started.”

Remy bent down and kissed her again. “You do the eggs, I'll do the sausage?”

“You don't even trust me to make breakfast on my own?”

“I am just offering to help,” Remy said, stealing another kiss before letting Marie go. “That's it.”

“Fine, you get the sausage then.”

**********

Remy looked up from the studio to see Marie walking into the booth. He smiled at her through the glass and waved, prompting Marie to give him a smile before sitting down on the sofa. Remy wanted to walk into the room and talk to her, but before he could suggest a break, Storm came on the speaker.

“Alright, everything's ready for this take. Just Remy's vocals and Peter's piano on this track.”

“We're the only two in the studio!” Peter yelled back.

Remy settled himself in front of the microphone and reached for his headphones. He gave a nod when Storm gave them a thumbs up through the glass, and then he heard Bobby giving the countdown through the recording in the headphones. Remy closed his eyes, letting the music drift into his ears before beginning to sing.

_I can't get you out of my thoughts anymore_  
_You've taken up permanent residence in my head_  
_My chest fills with emotion every time I see you_  
_And I'm not embarrassed to admit it anymore_  
_There's been a you and me for so long now_  
_Feelings stayed intact even when we were apart_  
_But now you're back and you and I are strong now_  
_So I'm telling you that you've got ownership of my heart_  
_It goes without saying that I'm in love with you_  
_And it makes me so happy every day that I see you_  
_I don't know how we spent so long apart_  
_I don't know how we overcame our broken hearts_  
_I was lost without you, just drifting through life_  
_But now it goes without saying that I want you to be my wife_  
_You knock me off my feet with your beauty_  
_Your long dark hair and your dark brown eyes_  
_I find I judge every woman I meet against you_  
_And they never ever compare to you_  
_I've made a lot of mistakes in my past_  
_But you've encouraged me to do everything right_  
_So I'm ready for a family with you_  
_The culmination of a dream from years gone by_  
_It goes without saying that I'm in love with you_  
_And it makes me so happy every day that I see you_  
_I don't know how we spent so long apart_  
_I don't know how we overcame our broken hearts_  
_I was lost without you, just drifting through life_  
_But now it goes without saying that I want you to be my wife_  
_This isn't a proposal because I know that you need time_  
_But these words I'm saying aren't just another line_  
_The truth behind these words is a fire that warms my soul_  
_And it's a fire that was lit within your arms_  
_And it goes without saying that I'm in love with you_  
_And it goes without saying that I'll always be true_  
_But now it goes without saying that I want you to be my wife_  
_It goes without saying that you're my entire life_  
_It goes without saying that I'm yours forevermore_  
_It goes without saying that I love you more and more_  
_And it goes without saying that I need you in my life_  
_And it goes without saying_  
_It goes without saying_

Remy opened his eyes and looked directly at Marie as the music finished in his headphones. He slid them off his ears as Storm came on the speaker and said that had sounded great, and Peter walked out of the studio. But Remy stayed there, looking straight at Marie until Marie stood up and walked into the studio.

Remy took a deep breath as Marie walked up, sliding the microphone out of the way. “I'm sorry.”

“What the fuck are you apologizing for?” Marie asked right before she kissed him. “That was beautiful.”

“I thought it might be too much after our conversation this morning.”

Marie just shook her head. “No, I love it when you write songs about me. They come straight from your heart.”

“And maybe someday they'll come true,” Remy murmured, wrapping his arms around Marie's waist. “How's your day going??”

“Well, I took the real estate agent through the penthouse to see what they thought it was worth. It was more than I thought it was going to be, but from what they told me, they could get that high of a price. So I hope you're ready for a roommate.”

Remy grinned. “I think I can handle that.”

“Remy, get in here so we can listen to the track please,” Storm said over the speaker, prompting Marie to pull away from him.

“It's going to take me some time to move in,” Marie said as she walked away. “So no complaints about how long it takes me.”

Remy stood up and followed her. “None. I promise.”


	19. Chapter 19

Bobby opened his door to find John standing there with a couple of greasy bags in his hands. “Burgers and fries, as requested.”

Bobby moved out of the way and John walked inside, heading towards the kitchen. Bobby followed him and as soon as John set the bags down, Bobby was pushing John back against the counter and getting into his face. 

“I think I'm going to die if you don't kiss me, John. It's been so long.”

John chuckled and wrapped his arms around Bobby's shoulders, pulling him closer. “Missing me, hm?”

“I've been missing you for years,” Bobby whispered. “Just kiss me.”

John frowned. “Years?”

Bobby sighed. “Come on. You know how long I've been miserable in this relationship. Ever since it started, the John I knew, the John I fell in love with, has been gone. I miss him. So yes, years.”

“You think the man you fell in love with disappeared once we started our relationship?” John let his head hang back. “You think I changed.”

“Of course you changed. You were utterly terrified, John. And deep down you still are.”

John let his eyes close for a moment and then brought his head back up. “I've been seeing a therapist. And I think it's helping. I really do.”

Bobby sighed. “Who did you fuck?”

John cringed. “It's that obvious?”

“John, everything with you is either related to the band or sex,” Bobby said. “I totally understand why that is now, but yes, it's that obvious.”

“It was some hanger-on that latched on to me at the club a couple of nights ago. She was so drunk that I almost didn't do it, but she was coherent enough to go through with it, so I tried and it worked.”

“I seriously hope you don't think you're magically cured now,” Bobby said firmly.

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I don't. But you're right, sex is important to me, so the fact that I was able to fuck someone was so great.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” Bobby asked impatiently. “Or is there a point to all of this?”

John sighed. “My point to all of this is to say I'm trying. I don't know if I'll ever be the guy you fell in love with again, but I'm trying, Bobby. And you're right, I'm utterly terrified. Motherfucking scared to death. And it's a combination of how I feel for you and what it is we do when we fuck. I don't know if I'll ever get over that. But I'm trying.”

“I still don't think we have a future,” Bobby whispered. “I don't think you can change that much.”

“There's one way to have a future,” John said, leaning forward. “And that's to make sure the present never ends. I'm just going to make sure the present gets better.”

Bobby went to respond but John caught his lips in a passionate kiss and Bobby melted against him. John tried to hold onto Bobby but something about it made them end up sprawled out on the floor. John reached up to rub the back of his head only to have Bobby crawl on top of him and kiss him again, hard and deep. When they needed breath, Bobby broke them apart only to dive forward again. John let it happen four, five, six times before he stopped Bobby, and Bobby stared down at him with wild eyes.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Because the food is probably cold,” John said, sighing. “And because this is leading to a big mistake.”

“Every time we fuck is a big mistake. Why would this be any different?”

Bobby's words made John cringe. “Every time?”

“Oh come on, you know that's how you act so don't even try that with me,” Bobby said, pushing himself up off of John and the floor. “Fuck.”

John stayed on the floor and ran his hands over his face. “Bobby, is this what you invited me over for? To fuck?”

“Yes, no, I don't know,” Bobby said, opening up one of the bags and pulling a burger out of it. “I just know I miss the motherfucking shit out of you and I needed something.”

“Bobby, you know that all the progress we've made would be destroyed if we fucked tonight,” John said, sitting up.

“We haven't made any progress,” Bobby muttered, grabbing the other bag and tossing it at John. “Take your food and get the fuck out.”

John watched as Bobby walked out of the kitchen before climbing up off the floor. He set the bag on the counter and walked through the flat, eventually finding Bobby sitting at the base of his closet, staring into space while he ate fries. “Bobby.”

“I told you to get the fuck out.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Fuck off.”

“Bobby, we have to have made some progress,” John said. “You can't tell me we haven't.”

“I can and I will,” Bobby said, letting his head fall back against the wall. “You telling me about what happened to you has increased my understanding of parts of our relationship. It has not changed any part of our relationship.”

“I told you the biggest secret I've got and it hasn't changed our relationship? Now you can fuck off.”

Bobby sighed. “So you told me a secret and it was a big one. Thank you for trusting me with that. Now tell me how that changes things. Tell me how that makes me hate you less. Tell me how that makes you love me the way I want you to. You can't.”

“It got me into therapy and therapy is going to help me with those things.”

“And what if it doesn't?” Bobby asked. “What if all it does is make it okay for you to have sex again? That's the only reason you went to therapy because you couldn't fuck someone. And that's all you really care about deep down anyway. John fucking Allerdyce and his fucking dick and who he can stick it into that night. That's all you fucking care about.”

“Bobby...”

“Deny it,” Bobby challenged him. “Motherfucking deny it. Tell me I'm wrong.”

John sat there opening and closing his mouth for a few minutes before giving up because Bobby was right. He had reached a point in his life where that was truly all he cared about. Not even the band mattered as much to him as that did. 

“Get the fuck out,” Bobby said through gritted teeth after John stayed silent.

John wanted to stay, wanted to say something to Bobby to make him feel better, but he was intelligent enough to realize that all he would do was make things worse, so he climbed off the floor and left. 

Bobby tossed his burger out into his room and brought his knees up to his chest. He waited for the sound of the door opening and then closing before dropping his forehead down to his knees and letting the tears fall. 

He thought he'd had a broken heart before.

He thought he'd been shattered before.

If that was what he'd been before, what the fuck was he now?

**********

“Women suck,” Sean slurred, waving his bottle of vodka in Kitty's direction. “'Cept you, Kitty.”

“Thanks,” Kitty said. “I think.”

“Don't pay any attention to him,” Peter said. “You know how he gets about Moira.”

“Don't say her name!” Sean screamed, picking up an empty glass and throwing it at a wall, laughing when it burst into pieces. “Ha, pieces of glass like pieces of my heart.”

“I think you've had enough to drink,” Bobby said, reaching for the bottle and sighing when Sean pulled it out of his reach. “Sean, come on. That's your second bottle tonight.”

“I'm drinking away my pain,” Sean declared, bringing the bottle up to his lips and taking a long sip from it. “I thought she loved me.”

“She does love you,” Bobby said. “She just doesn't love you enough to be monogamous.”

Scott suddenly stood up, striding over to Sean and wrenching the bottle from his grasp. “Enough, Sean!”

Sean stood up and shoved Scott backward. “Give me back my vodka!”

“No,” Scott said, holding it behind his back until Peter reached out and took it. “My wife is wondering why I'm sitting here with you instead of being home with my daughter. Now you better give me a reason to stay or I'm walking out.”

Sean shoved Scott again. “Sure, flaunt your happiness in front of me. Perfect Scott with his perfect wife and his perfect child! Fuck off, you lousy bastard. Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Fine,” Scott said, turning to look at everyone else. “I will see you all tomorrow, provided Sean ever passes out and gets some sleep.”

“I said get the fuck out!” Sean said, shoving Scott away.

Scott didn't say another word and just left the room as Sean walked over to Peter and grabbed the bottle of vodka back. “Why the fuck are we friends with him?”

“We were friends with him before we were friends with you,” Kitty pointed out as Sean collapsed back into his chair.

“Fuck off,” Sean murmured, taking a long drink from the bottle. “Does anyone know where my coke went?”

“Sean, no,” Kitty said, but Sean shoved his hand in his pocket and grinned when his hand closed around a small bottle.

He pulled it out and looked at it then stood up. “Should be enough for one line.”

Everyone jumped when Sean shoved everything off of the bar and sent it crashing to the floor. He just laughed and set the bottle of vodka down, then poured the powder out and formed a neat line. They watched with varying degrees of interest as Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill, rolling it up and using it to snort the cocaine. When he was done, he grabbed the bottle of vodka and walked back to his chair, collapsing down into it.

“Someone tell me what a bitch she is.”

“She's not a bitch,” Kitty said. “She's just not faithful.”

Sean laughed hysterically. “She's a fucking slut. That's what she is.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Everyone's attention was drawn to the stairs where Moira stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “Fuck you, Sean. Like you know anything about being faithful.”

“I was faithful to you!” Sean screamed. “You're the one who wasn't!”

“Bullshit,” Moira said, walking into the room. “I know all about her, Sean. Don't deny it.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Sean said, chugging more of the vodka.

“Oh, don't you?” Moira just shook her head. “She came up to me one night after you left on tour, told me all about your affair. Described your tattoo in explicit detail. Said she thought I deserved to know the truth.”

“If you think I've cheated on you, then tell me who the fuck it was I cheated on you with,” Sean demanded.

“Maeve Rourke,” Moira said, and Sean went quiet. “You can't even deny it, can you?”

“Maeve Rourke is married to that director guy,” Sean murmured.

“That sure as hell didn't stop you.”

Sean stood up and got in Moira's face. “So what if I did fuck her a couple of times?” he yelled. “What fucking difference does it make? You opened your legs for anyone who was willing!”

Moira reached out and slapped Sean hard. “You're a fucking douchebag, you know that?”

“Better to be a douchebag than a whore!” Sean yelled.

Moira shoved Sean back down into his chair and turned to walk out of the room. “I just came to get my stuff. I thought maybe we'd be able to work this out, but clearly not.”

“Like I'd want to work things out with you!” Sean called after her. “You're such a fucking bitch!”

When Moira didn't respond, Sean threw the bottle of vodka in her direction, watching as it hit the wall and shattered. Kitty sighed and started to walk towards the bar, making Peter turn and look at her.

“What are you doing?'

“Someone has to clean up all this glass,” Kitty said, opening cupboards until she found a broom and dustpan. “Deal with Sean. I'll deal with this.”

Peter nodded and looked over at Bobby. They both stood up and pulled Sean out of his chair. “Come on, Sean. I think you need a cold shower,” Peter said.

“The fuck I do!” Sean exclaimed but he didn't fight them.

They each swung one of Sean's arms around their shoulders, helping to walk him out of the room and up the stairs. Kitty worked on sweeping up the glass until Moira walked back into the room, mascara running down her face.

“Oh Moira,” Kitty said, abandoning the broom and walking towards her, wrapping her up in a big hug. “Don't listen to him. He's drunk and high and really fucked up right now.”

“No, no, he's right,” Moira cried. “I am a whore.”

“You are not,” Kitty said firmly. “I do not understand why whenever a woman has lots of sexual partners, we get labeled as whores, and when men do it, they get applauded for how many girls they've fucked.”

“I should have been more faithful to him,” Moira sniffled. “But he scared me so much.”

“What do you mean he scared you?” Kitty asked, pulling back to look at her.

“By how he made me feel,” Moira murmured. “Like, I could have had a future with him, you know? It's fucking scary to feel that way.”

“I know exactly what you're talking about,” Kitty said. “But it's usually a good kind of scary.”

“I reacted horribly to it. I've hurt him so badly,” Moira said, reaching up to wipe away the tears and ruining her mascara even more. “I really wanted to make things right between us. Forgive and forget, start over. But clearly, we can't do that.”

“I don't know about that,” Kitty said. “Never pay attention to what a man says when he's as fucked up as Sean is right now. Give him some time, then come see him again. At least give it a chance when he's sober and possibly more willing to listen.”

“You think?” Moira asked, smiling slightly when Kitty nodded. “Thanks, Kitty.”

“You're welcome, Moira.”

Moira glanced over at the mirror on the wall and gasped. “Oh God, I look terrible.”

“Here,” Kitty said, grabbing a washcloth from behind the bar and wetting it before handing it to Moira. 

Moira took the washcloth and wiped away her mascara, staring at herself in the mirror until she decided she looked okay enough to go out into public. “Thanks, Kitty. I should probably go before Sean finds out I'm still here.”

“Probably a good idea,” Kitty said as there were footsteps on the stairs. “Talk to him.”

“I'll think about it,” Moira said as she headed towards the stairs, passing Bobby as he made it to the bottom of them. 

Bobby looked over at Kitty and found her still sweeping up glass. “Well, Sean is currently sitting at the bottom of his shower with cold water pouring down on him and he's finally crying. Peter said he could deal with him.”

Kitty picked up the dustpan and dumped the glass into the trash can, looking around for any more. “I think I'm done with the glass.”

“Kitty, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think John cares about me?”

Kitty sighed as she put the broom back where she had found it. “Of course he does, Bobby.”

“Don't bullshit me.”

“I'm not,” Kitty said, turning to face him. “Why are you asking me about this instead of him?”

“Because I know you're his confidante and we get nowhere when we try to talk to each other,” Bobby said, leaning up against the bar. “I'm not asking you to break the trust you two have. I'm just asking you to let me know if I'm chasing something that I'm never going to be able to get.”

Kitty leaned back against the cupboard. “John has a problem with love. I don't know what it is, why he has this problem, but he does. I know you feel like he just uses the fuck out of you, and I don't blame you for that because that's what he does. But I'm saying I don't think he knows how to do anything else. I mean, look at how he treats women. The fact that he's friends with Jubilee is astounding to me because you know he usually uses the fuck out of a woman that catches his eye for more than two seconds.”

“I think he connected with Jubilee on an intellectual level, which is rare for him,” Bobby said.

“That's not the point of what I said.”

Bobby sighed heavily. “He treats women like shit. He treats me like shit. He doesn't know how to do anything else. I get it.”

“That doesn't make it right,” Kitty said, contemplating things. “Has he told you he's in therapy?”

Bobby nodded. “Yes. I think he's there for all the wrong reasons, and I think he's going to think he's done with it for all the wrong reasons, but I know he's seeing a therapist.”

“Well at least you know the reasons,” Kitty said. “He won't tell me what they are.”

“I'm not surprised about that. They're pretty personal.”

“I'm surprised you know them,” Kitty said.

Bobby just shook his head. “I had to practically force it out of him. He never would have told a soul if I hadn't.” 

“That sounds like John. It's got to be crisis level before he talks to me,” Kitty said, walking towards the counter when she heard her phone go off. She dug into her bag and pulled it out, clicking through to the message. “Piotr wants me to meet him at his place.”

“You should go,” Bobby said. “I know you don't get to spend much time with him.”

Kitty looked up at him. “You sure?”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah. Peter and I can handle Sean.”

Kitty grabbed her bag and walked over to Bobby, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “You are the best, Bobby. Never forget that.”

“I'm really not, Kitty.”

“Totally are,” Kitty said, smiling at him. “I'll see you at the Christmas party.”


	20. Chapter 20

Twinkling lights were hung all over the place, garland wrapped around the pillars that lined the room, tinsel all over the tree in the corner. A variety of Christmas songs were being played on the radio, scantily clad models were everywhere, alcohol flowing freely. It was a typical Mutants Christmas party and, in typical fashion, Bobby felt motherfucking awful.

John was across the room, getting girl after girl under the mistletoe to kiss him. And it wasn't that he needed the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss them because Bobby knew those girls would lay down on the floor and open their legs in front of everyone if John asked. It was that John was flaunting the fact that he could get any girl he wanted and, just like always, it was torturing Bobby.

“You look awful,” Marie said, making Bobby realize that she was standing next to him. “And the fact that you're not acting like normal is going around the room.”

“I'm not in the mood to act like the fucking rock star tonight,” Bobby murmured, knocking back his drink and turning around to find another bottle of something. “Christmas makes me lonely.”

“Because you can't spend it with you know who?” Marie asked, taking a sip from her drink.

Bobby poured himself a glass of whiskey and knocked it back before pouring himself another. “We spent Christmas together once.”

“You did?” Marie asked, surprised. “Seriously?”

Bobby sighed. “It was the first Christmas after we met. His parents were fucked off at him about not attending classes because of the band and my parents were the same so we decided to stay at Columbia and have Christmas together.”

Marie stayed silent while Bobby knocked back a couple more drinks.

“It was the best Christmas of my life,” Bobby eventually whispered. “And he'll deny it till the end of time, even to me, but there was mistletoe hanging in his apartment, and there was alcohol, and, well, you get the idea.”

“You've been in love that long, haven't you?” Marie asked softly.

“Yes,” Bobby said, looking over at where John was under the mistletoe again. “I don't think we can ever fix what's between us because there isn't anything between us. It's all in my head. To him, I'm nothing more than just another fuck. He tries to say I'm not, but I know that's the truth. And yet, I can't let him go. I can't walk away. I'm so fucked up, Marie. I'm so fucked up over him.”

“You know what, Bobby,” Marie said, setting her drink down and reaching out. “I think you need a hug.”

Bobby stared at Marie for a moment before stepping into her arms, letting her wrap him up in an embrace. “I don't know what to do, Marie. This has destroyed me.”

Marie hugged him tightly. “Have you ever thought of talking to someone about it? Someone who might actually be able to sort your thoughts out better than I can?”

“You mean a therapist?” Bobby said, pulling back. “I need a therapist because I'm in love?”

“No, you need a therapist because you're fucked up and destroyed,” Marie said, letting go of him. “I've been seeing one.”

“Yeah?” Bobby asked, turning to pour himself another drink. “What do you need one for? Shit, I shouldn't ask you that.”

“It's alright. Remy terrifies me. The thought of a life together with him, even though that's what I want, terrifies me,” Marie said, reaching for her drink. “And it's because of Doug. It's because of nearly dying. It's because of my fucked up childhood. I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone properly.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” Bobby said, knocking back his drink. “I'm even sorrier that I understand exactly how you feel.”

“So you should go talk to someone,” Marie said, polishing off her drink. “Pour me another?”

“What are you drinking?”

“What do you think?”

Bobby reached for the bottle and poured Marie another whiskey. “I wouldn't know where to start looking for someone.”

“My guy's good,” Marie said, taking her glass back. “Robert Kelly. I can give you his number. Super discreet. He does visits at his house. No office for you to be seen going in and out of.”

“Where did you find this guy?” Bobby asked, looking over at her. “Because he sounds like someone that doesn't advertise.”

“Sebastian found him. He's kind of the therapist for the elite,” Marie said. “He's overqualified to be doing this, but he's an older man that retired from his job and does this to pass the time. He takes it seriously and he's very good.”

“I'll think about it,” Bobby murmured, turning to watch John making out underneath the mistletoe again. “Has he moved from that spot at all tonight?”

“I don't think so,” Marie said, shaking her head. “They've just been lining up.”

“They always do,” Bobby said, leaning up against the table. “He'll pick a couple of them to take home tonight.”

“You sound pretty sure about that.”

“I've seen this for years. You haven't.” Bobby took a long sip from his drink. “Sometimes I pick one out for myself, but I don't think I'm going to do that this year. I think I just need to be alone.”

“I'm not sure you should be,” Marie said, looking over at him. “Come over to the house. Spend Christmas with us.”

Bobby sighed. “No. I don't want to ruin your Christmas. You and Remy deserve better than that.”

“Bobby...”

“Seriously, Marie, it's better this way,” Bobby said, finishing his drink and turning to get another. “Just leave me to get drunk in peace.”

“Well, if you won't come over, then I'm at least going to call and make sure you're alright,” Marie said. “I'm worried about you.”

“Don't be,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “I'm not going to do something stupid. I'm like this every Christmas.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“There you are, darling,” came Remy's voice, and Marie looked up to see him walking towards them. “I've been looking everywhere for you.”

“Just getting another drink and talking to Bobby for a few minutes,” Marie said, reaching for the bottle and topping off her drink.

“Well, can I steal you back then?” Remy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Is that alright, Bobby?”

Bobby gave them a fake smile. “Of course.”

Remy whisked Marie away and Bobby let his eyes go back to where John's hand was creeping up the bottom of one of the model's dresses. He took a deep breath and had a long sip from his glass, remembering the way John's hands felt on his skin.

Fuck, he probably really did need that therapist. He'd have to ask Marie for his number.

**********

A week turned into two and then three and before Marie realized it, it had been over a month since she'd been at her apartment. At that point, she gave in and told Remy that she would move in permanently, bringing that brilliant grin to Remy's face.

Two weeks after that, Marie finished moving her stuff in. Remy told Marie she could do whatever she wanted with the rest of the house, so long as she left the room with the piano in it alone. Marie wandered through the house while Remy was at the studio and realized that an interior decorator was necessary because she had absolutely no clue what to do with the house but she knew the all-white walls had to go. 

So she set her sights on the pile of mail on the table by the door. Remy was horrible about going through his mail, checking it once or twice a month and then just dropping it all on the table and forgetting about it, and Marie knew that was a habit that could not continue. She picked up a stack of it and started to flip through it, rolling her eyes when she saw what was probably unpaid bill after unpaid bill among the advertisements and the junk.

Then she found a large manila envelope that Remy had never opened, and she looked at it for a moment, wondering why the return address was familiar to her. She turned it over and saw Trask and Stryker written across the flap and realized it was the address for the law firm her father had on retainer. She reached for her phone and send Remy a message quickly.

_Cleaning up your mail. You've got an envelope from Trask and Stryker here that you've never opened._

Her phone beeped a few moments later and she looked at Remy's response.

_It's probably nothing. Open it if you want._

So Marie did just that and she found herself reading a cover letter from Bolivar Trask about the lawsuit that had been filed against Remy.

The _paternity_ lawsuit.

Marie sunk down to the floor and read through the entire contents of the envelope. A woman in Seattle, only twenty-years-old, claimed that Remy was the father of her two-year-old son, and she wanted money for her silence and in exchange for the child.

That last bit haunted Marie. This woman wanted to give up her child to Remy in exchange for money. To read what this woman wanted to do was horrifying.

Marie took a deep breath and gathered all the papers up, then stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. She reached for her phone and texted Remy, asking where he was and telling him they needed to talk somewhere they were not in public. He texted back that he was at the studio, and that the only other person still there was Storm so to meet him there. Marie sighed, grabbing the paperwork and her bag and heading towards the door.

**********

Remy stared at the paperwork in shock. “I don't remember her at all. I don't remember this at all.”

“She obviously remembers you,” Marie said, reaching out to tangle her fingers with Remy's. “Should you call Erik?”

“Yeah,” Remy said, leaning back on the sofa. “And I should probably call Charles, see what he thinks the next step should be.”

“I'd think the first step should be a paternity test.”

“Paternity test,” Remy murmured absently. “Yeah, that would be a good idea.”

Marie looked at him with concern. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Remy said. “I'm not.”

“What can I do?”

Remy looked up at her with fear in his eyes. “Don't leave me.”

Marie reached out and caressed the side of his face. “I am not going to leave you.”

“I was so reckless before you came back. I don't even want to contemplate how many girls like this one there could be out there,” Remy said. “Marie, what if she's not the only one? What if there's more? What if I have children all over the place that I know nothing about?”

Marie leaned in and kissed him softly. “Stop freaking yourself out. Stop thinking about others. If there are others, we will deal with them as they come. For now, let's just focus on this one, okay?”

Remy nodded and turned back to the paperwork. “I have a son.”

“You _might_ have a son,” Marie said seriously. “She's going to have to prove that he's your child.”

“Right,” Remy said, leaning against Marie. “What am I going to tell my parents?”

“You could wait until after the results of the paternity test to tell them.”

“No,” Remy said, shaking his head. “There's too big of a risk of it leaking out to the press before that could happen. I'm surprised her side hasn't leaked it already. Besides, I need to tell them you've moved in.”

Marie gave Remy a look. “You still haven't told them I moved in?”

“I keep ignoring their calls,” Remy said sheepishly. “I haven't talked to them since right after we got back from the tour.”

“That was months ago!” Marie said, incredulous.

“It's not unusual for me to not speak to them for months at a time,” Remy murmured. 

“I'm surprised that your mother hasn't come knocking down your door.” 

“She'll go along with whatever my father says and he seems not to care much that I hardly talk to them.”

Marie just shook her head. “The first thing you're doing is calling your parents. Then you can deal with all of this. And if Jean-Luc is a prick like usual, just hang up on him. That is what I do with my father.”

Remy leaned forward and rested his head against Marie's forehead, taking a deep breath before leaning in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marie whispered, smiling at him when he pulled away. “Now, how much longer do you have to stay here?”

“I'm done,” Remy said, sliding the paperwork back into the envelope. “I couldn't concentrate on anything now anyway.”

“Then let's go home,” Marie said, standing up and holding out her hand for Remy to take. “We'll order dinner in and watch a movie tonight.”

Remy finally cracked a smile. “That sounds great.”

“But you're making those phone calls or I'm going to stay at Jubilee's,” Marie warned as Remy took her hand and she pulled him up from the sofa.

“I'll make the calls,” Remy said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Promise me that no matter how bad this gets you're not going to leave me.”

Marie just nodded. “I promise.”

“I'm going to hold you to that, Marie.”

“I know you are, Remy. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”

“Alright, let me get my stuff and then we're out of here.”

**********

Remy looked into the mirror and adjusted his tie. “I hate wearing a suit.”

“You cannot walk into that courtroom dressed like a rock star,” Marie said, slipping her arm into her dress. “You have to look responsible.”

“This entire thing is ridiculous,” Remy said. “We have to go through all this nonsense just to get these charges thrown out?”

“Yes, we do,” Marie said, lifting up her hair and turning her back to Remy. “Zip me up?”

Remy walked over to her and caressed her exposed skin before zipping up the dress. “You look stunning in that dress, by the way.”

“I shouldn't look stunning, I should look responsible,” Marie said, letting her hair fall down and turning to face him. “I'm the one who's going to get you off.”

Remy grinned wickedly. “You're very good at getting me off.”

Marie slapped at his shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter and onto this hearing please.”

“I just don't understand why we have to do this,” Remy said. “Doug isn't even going to show up in court.”

“Which is yet another reason the charges are going to be thrown out,” Marie said. “Between my testimony, the evidence of the paperwork he tried to make me sign, and the fact that Doug won't be there, this should go quickly and painlessly.”

“I hope so,” Remy said, turning back to the mirror and bringing his hands up to his hair. “Would you kill me if I cut my hair?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Marie asked, incredulous.

“I don't know,” Remy said, sighing. “I'm just sick of my hair.”

Marie walked over to him and brought her hand up to tug at his hair. “I love your hair.”

“Then I shall keep it.”

“Good idea,” Marie said, leaning her head back when Remy leaned in for a kiss. “No, you are not ruining my lipstick before this hearing. You can kiss me all you want after it.”

“Oh, come on, Marie,” Remy said, sighing when Marie shook her head no. “Fine.”

Marie smiled at him, and Remy found himself speaking before he could stop himself. “Marry me.”

Marie blinked. “What?”

“Will you marry me?”

Marie saw the earnestness in Remy's eyes and she sighed. “You have asked me that question far too many times, you know that?”

“I can't help it,” Remy said. “I want you to be my wife.”

“No.”

“Marie...”

“Remy, it's only been six months!”

“It's been ten months,” Remy corrected. “You're not factoring in the tour.”

“I'm talking about the length of our relationship,” Marie said. “We did not have that during the tour.”

“I disagree but I will not argue.”

Marie just sighed. “I'm not ready, Remy. Six months is not long enough for me to look at you and say, yeah, I want to marry you.”

Remy's heart sank. “You don't know if you want to marry me?”

Marie shook her head. “That came out wrong. I am not ready to marry you. I am not ready to be your wife. I am still trying to come to grips with being your roommate.”

“We are not roommates,” Remy said firmly. “Do not call yourself my roommate.”

“I don't know what else to call it,” Marie said.

“You are my partner, Marie,” Remy said softly. “We are partners and we live together as partners. Not roommates. Never roommates.”

“Fine, we are not roommates, we are partners,” Marie said, sighing. “I'm just not ready, Remy. I'm not.”

Remy stared at her for a moment before backing away. “Okay. I'll back off. But it's not going to stop me from wanting it.”

“I'm not asking you to stop wanting it,” Marie said, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. “I'm asking you to give it more time so when it does happen it's right.”

“I can't promise you that I'll stop asking you either,” Remy said. “That was just a spur of the moment decision.”

“Keep asking,” Marie said, smiling at him. “One day the answer will probably be yes.”

Remy nodded and reached for his phone, checking the time. “Fuck, we've got to go.”

Marie picked hers up and did the same. “Shit. Yeah, we do. Erik will kill us if we're late for this.”

“I think Charles will kill us too,” Remy said, walking out of the bathroom. “Grab your shoes. You can put them on in the car. We've got to leave now.”


	21. Chapter 21

John was drunk. Of that, he was absolutely certain. But he wasn't entirely certain where he was or who he was with. He just knew one thing – it was definitely not Bobby. The hair was brown where Bobby's was blond, and the man's frame was wiry where Bobby's was muscular and where the fuck was he and who the fuck was this? He opened his mouth to ask those questions but his tongue felt heavy as he slurred words together that didn't make any sense.

The man was focusing on getting John's shirt unbuttoned, and John tried to lift his arm up to push him away, but his limbs felt heavy too. Had he taken something at the club? Was he even still at the club? Where was Bobby? He was getting more confused by the second.

“No,” he finally managed to enunciate, but the man just laughed and tried to pull his jacket off his shoulders. John rolled his head to the side and saw a row of toilets, so he decided he must still be in the club. But where was Bobby? Or Kitty? They'd all come to the club together. Where was someone who could stop what was happening, because he clearly could not?

The man kissed him hard, forcing his tongue into his mouth. John tried again to reach up and push him away but he still couldn't. The man stayed attached to his mouth until John could barely breathe, and he felt himself gasp for air when the man finally broke away. He tried to say something to stop him again, but the words slurred into something unintelligible. He was trapped, he couldn't get away, and he didn't know what was about to happen. Fear coursed through him as memories from his youth started popping up in his mind, and John closed his eyes, silently begging someone to make this stop. He had to get away. He had to.

Then suddenly, the man was yanked away from him and John felt himself sliding down the wall to the floor. Voices were shouting at each other and he thought there was something familiar about one of them, but mostly he was just relieved that someone had shown up to help. He felt someone crouch down next to him and looked over at them, sighing inwardly with relief when Kitty's face came into view. 

“John? Are you alright?” Kitty asked, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. 

John tried to shrug off her touch as he attempted to speak but neither worked, and the worry in Kitty's eyes grew. 

“Just stay with me, okay? I'll get help.”

John tried to nod as Kitty took her hand off his shoulder and stood up, and John felt his eyes slip closed. Kitty was there. Kitty would make everything okay.

He opened his eyes awhile later when he felt a familiar touch on his cheek and Bobby came into view. His eyes were full of concern, and when John tried to speak but only slurred nonsense came out, the concern deepened.

“What did that motherfucker give him?” he heard Bobby ask. “And when? He was with us except for when he went to go dance.”

“I think you have your answer of when,” Kitty said, crouching down next to him. “As to what, I think we're going to have to wait for the doctors to determine that unless the police can get it out of him.”

“Where are the fucking paramedics?”

“On their way,” Kitty said, putting a hand on Bobby's knee. “They should be here soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Bobby said as John closed his eyes. 

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone but he could tell his location had changed. He glanced around and it took a few moments, but he soon realized he was in a hospital, and he felt relieved. Hospital meant doctors and nurses and people who could probably tell him why he felt so out of control of his own body.

After a while, a nurse approached the bed he was lying in and smiled down at him. “Good to see you're awake, Mr. Allerdyce. I'll go alert the doctor.”

John let his eyes drift closed again. He tried to move his arms and legs and determined that he could do that slightly better than he had been able to do it before. He opened his eyes when he heard someone say his name, and he saw a woman with a stethoscope around her neck staring down at him. 

“Mr. Allerdyce? I'm Dr. Palmer. Are you able to talk to me?”

John tried to answer her but the words came out slurred again. He was growing increasingly frustrated with his inability to communicate with people, and increasingly worried about what had caused it.

“Alright, I see the effects are still quite strong. Based on the information the police have provided me with and your condition, I can tell you that we believe you are under the influence of a combination of drugs that are known as date rape drugs. The effects of these drugs can last for several hours, but they will wear off. Combined with the alcohol I've been told you were drinking, the drugs would be very potent.”

Dr. Palmer took her stethoscope from around her neck and used it to listen to John's chest for a few moments. “It sounds like you're breathing well, which is good. Unfortunately, there's not much I can do to help you. We just have to wait for the effects to wear off.”

John tried to speak again but gave up after a word or two because he knew he wasn't making any sense. Dr. Palmer put the stethoscope back around her neck and looked up to check John's vitals.

“Blood pressure is still a little low, but that's to be expected with some of these drugs. I'd expect that to start rising back to normal levels as the effects wear off.”

Dr. Palmer looked at another couple things on the monitors before turning back to John. “Now, I've been told you're some sort of rock star, but you'll have to forgive me for having no clue who you are. There is a woman out there named Kitty who says she is your friend and wants updates. If you can, nod for me if you'd like me to talk to her about your condition. If you cannot nod, I will not speak to her about it.”

John forced himself to nod. But where was Bobby? Bobby must be out there too. Where else would he be?

“Alright. You get some rest now, and as I said, the effects of these drugs will start wearing off soon.”

Dr. Palmer walked away and John let his eyes close again, giving in to the sleepiness that had been threatening to overtake him.

When John opened his eyes again, Darwin was standing at the end of his bed, talking rapidly. It took John a moment to realize that meant Erik must have shown up at the hospital, but John felt better than he had the last time he'd been awake.

“Darwin?” John managed to say, prompting Darwin to abruptly end the phone call he was on.

“John, you can talk,” Darwin said, walking around to the side of the bed. “Good. That's progress.”

“What,” John started, his tongue still feeling heavy. “What happened?”

“Your drink was spiked at the club,” Darwin said. “The police have the man who did it in custody. He had you in the men's room and was trying to take advantage of you when Bobby and Kitty found you. We don't know what his ultimate aim was yet.”

John felt that information float around in his brain before it decided to settle, and it took him a while to comprehend it. “Bobby?” he managed next, looking at Darwin with concerned eyes. “Kitty? Where?”

“Bobby and Kitty are perfectly fine,” Darwin stated and John was immediately relieved. “They are in the waiting room with Erik, and they are relaying their side of the story to police as we speak.”

John nodded and closed his eyes again, and he felt sleep take him in a matter of moments.

The first thing he said to Darwin when he woke up again was “I want to see Bobby.”

Darwin just nodded and walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with Bobby by his side. John had never been more relieved to see him in his life. Bobby pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down as Darwin closed the door behind him as he left, and Bobby reached out to tangle his fingers with John's.

“Johnny, don't ever scare me like this again.”

“It sounds like I didn't have much of a say in it,” John said, glad that he seemed to have fully regained the ability to speak. “I'm sorry if I worried you.”

“I didn't know where you were, and then I overheard some people say you were getting it on with a guy in the men's room and I just...I made Kitty come with me because I thought I might kill you if she wasn't there, but it became very apparent very quickly that something was very wrong. You had hardly drunk anything yet, certainly not enough for you to be that out of it in the bathroom. We'd only been at the club for half an hour.”

“I don't even remember that,” John said, squeezing Bobby's fingers. “But you know I would never have done that willingly, right?”

“No, I don't,” Bobby said honestly. “And I don't want to discuss that now. We're in public.”

“Fine,” John said, taking a deep breath. “Apologize to Kitty for me? I didn't mean to ruin her night.”

“That is completely unnecessary,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “She's been sitting out there with me, just as worried about you as I was. Besides, she was the one intelligent enough to demand to know how you were doing. I was just going to sit out there till Erik arrived with all the proper paperwork.”

John chuckled. “Still apologize for me.”

“I will do no such thing. You have nothing to apologize for,” Bobby said firmly. “And I have a feeling that if you try to apologize to Kitty yourself, she's going to hit you.”

John sighed as he felt his eyes growing heavy again. “Stay while I sleep?”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Bobby said. “I promise.”

“I love you,” John murmured as he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep again.

**********

“The label wants the album done as soon as possible,” Erik said, sighing when he was met by a chorus of words from the band. “I know, I know, the creative process. But it's been six months, and you've got enough songs recorded. You need to finalize the album.”

“We still need a title track,” Remy said.

“We have one,” Bobby called out. “ _Masters in Japanese._ ”

Remy sighed and turned around. “I told you, it's not good enough to be the title track. It's not good enough to be a single either. It's an album track at best.”

“ _Masters in Japanese_ is that one you sent me the other day, Storm?” Erik asked, turning his attention towards her. 

“Yes,” Storm said from her seat next to the board. “I needed you on board for the title track argument.”

“Well, that track is spectacular,” Erik said, turning back to the band. “And that title is a great title for the album. It'll make sales in Japan go through the roof.”

“Since when do we care about sales in Japan?” John asked.

“Since _Wonderful At Night_ hit number one there,” Erik said, shaking his head. “You clearly haven't been paying attention to my emails.”

“He's right, John,” Kitty said from the corner of the room. “I've been getting tweets from Japanese fans for months now.”

“That's fucking insane,” John said, sitting back in his chair. “So, alright, the title will help in Japan. All the more reason to have it.”

“I don't want it to be the title track because it will help sell albums in Japan,” Remy said, shaking his head. “That's not the point of a title.”

“That's exactly the point of a title,” Storm said. “It has to encompass the album, but it also has to entice the fans to buy it.”

Remy groaned and ran his hands over his face. “You all are going to make me agree with you, aren't you?”

“You know the deal, Remy. We vote and you're clearly the only no vote,” Sean said. “It's the title track.”

Remy sighed again. “Fine. I hate it, but fine.”

“Good, I'll tell the studio we have a title and you guys are working on the track listing,” Erik said, clapping his hands together. “Now, I have an announcement.”

“What thing are we going to do that we don't want to do now?” Kitty asked.

“No, I think you guys are going to like this,” Erik said. “You're going on a tour of Europe.”

“What?” Scott asked. “We're going to tour Europe?”

“The label is putting the finishing touches on it,” Erik said. “But _Lovers in the Garden_ just hit number one on the British, French, and German charts, so we've got to strike while you're hot.”

“It hit number one?” Bobby asked, his eyes wide. “We've got a number one in Europe?”

“Yes,” Erik said, grinning. “I just heard this morning that it was number one. And if you all had been reading my emails, you would have known that it has been climbing the charts in countries over there for weeks.”

“Erik, I never read emails,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I'm not even sure I know what my password is.”

“Get Crystal on that then because the emails are important,” Erik said. “It's too much information to include in a text, and I don't have time to call each and every one of you. Hence the emails.”

“Crystal is busy working on her next film,” Peter said.

“I'm sure she can take ten minutes to get you into your email,” Erik said, shaking his head. “If not, get Luna to do it. I'm sure your two-year-old is intelligent enough because it's really extraordinarily simple.”

“Thanks for implying I'm a fucking moron,” Peter said, sighing. “So when is this fucking tour?”

“It starts in March and it's going to last five months,” Erik said as the band groaned. “I'm sorry, but as I said, we've got to strike while the iron's hot.”

“Five months?” Scott asked, sighing. “You want me to be away from my wife and daughter for five months?”

“I'm sorry, Scott,” Erik said. “But the length of the tour and the dates are coming from the label. They think you can sell out multiple shows in multiple cities, and Europe is big. This is the biggest tour you've ever been on. And if this tour goes well, then a worldwide tour is coming.”

“Worldwide?” Scott threw his drumsticks across the room. “You've got to be motherfucking kidding me.”

“It's hard, Scott. Trust me, I know,” Peter said, looking over at him. “But you've got to think about your career too. You've got to think about the fact that you're doing this so you'll be able to support them. You're doing this so they can live a life that's better than the one you did. So yeah, it's motherfucking awful to be away from them. But you're doing it for them.”

Scott stood up and walked across the room to pick up his drumsticks. “I don't think I can do it, but I'll try to think about it like that.”

“Anyway, I'll get back to you all on the tour,” Erik said, looking at his watch. “I have to go meet with Emma on how we're going to publicize you all with the changes to the image from the last album. Get a fucking track listing together.”

Bobby sighed as Erik left, running his hands through his hair. “He's right. We've got enough for an album.”

“But do we have _the_ album?” Kitty asked.

“We won't know until we work on the track listing,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Storm? Cue up the tracks and give me a list of what we've recorded. We'll start listening to them in the order we come up with and see if it's an album or not.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Kitty, you have to fucking help me,” Remy pleaded as they walked down the street. “You're a girl. You know about stuff like this.”

“Remy, I am helping. We are out shopping,” Kitty pointed out. “You have bought her a Cartier watch, five dresses that you made me _try on_ to see how they looked which you owe me about a million different favors for, four pairs of shoes, and you still want to buy her more?”

“Yes,” Remy said, turning to look at her. “Come on, Kitty.”

Kitty sighed. “Well, since you seem to want to go all out, then we need to go to the 'if you have to ask, you can't afford it' stores.”

“The what?”

“If you have to ask, you can't afford it,” Kitty said, pointing up ahead. “Stores where you buy something spectacular and absurdly expensive without the price ever being discussed. Those are generally jewelry stores like that one.”

“She will motherfucking kill me if I buy her a ring,” Remy pointed out. 

“Then don't buy a ring,” Kitty said. “Get her a fabulous necklace or a killer bracelet and matching earrings. You don't have to buy a ring.”

Remy thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, let's go look.”

They went into the store that Kitty had pointed at and emerged an hour later with Remy grinning. “She's going to kill me. She's going to love it, but she's going to fucking kill me.”

“And yet you're smiling,” Kitty said, laughing. “Marie is not going to kill you.”

“I just ordered bespoke for her,” Remy said. “Nothing in the store was good enough. And it's not going to be fucking done for Valentines Day, so I have to find something else to give her.”

“Remy, you've spent thousands of dollars on her. You don't need to get her anything else, trust me. And give it to her for her birthday,” Kitty said. “When is that?”

“It won't be done for that either, because it's a week after we leave for Europe,” Remy sighed. “And I'm not sure she's not coming with us.”

Kitty looked over at him, confused. “Marie's not coming with us? Why the fuck not? She did last time.”

“I've mentioned the tour several times. She's yet to say she wants to come along,” Remy murmured as he spotted some photographers across the street. “Motherfuck. Snaps ahead.”

Kitty looked up and spotted them. “Fuck. Want to duck into that store to escape them?”

“They'll just gather outside for us to come out,” Remy said, slinging an arm around Kitty's shoulders. “Let's give them something to talk about, Kitty. I'm fucked off at Erik for the way he yelled at Marie the other day. Like it's her fault her father mentioned us getting married to the press.”

“Erik's going to kill us,” Kitty said, taking half a step closer to Remy. “But yeah, let's. I'm still furious with him about Piotr. Anyway, Marie.”

“She's got all this shit with Doug's lawsuit to deal with,” Remy said. “And even if she didn't, I don't think Marie would be coming with us. She seems completely uninterested in going.”

“Well, she doesn't when she talks to me about it,” Kitty said, pretending to laugh at something Remy said. “She's never said anything to me about not going with us.”

“Well, she's never said anything about even possibly coming with us to me,” Remy said. “I don't want her to stay here by herself because Doug has figured out where she lives now and came by the other day to try to get her to negotiate with him again. The guy is a fucking lunatic.”

“He sounds like he needs to be locked up for a psych evaluation,” Kitty said.

“He definitely needs one,” Remy said, leaning in to kiss Kitty's hair, causing her to laugh. “Erik will absolutely fucking kill me for that, but it'll be worth it. I should probably talk to Marie about the tour, huh? Ask point blank if she wants to come or not.”

“That's a good idea. Maybe at the very least she'll come to visit and you'll get to see her,” Kitty said wistfully. “Colossus is leaving for South America in a week and they're going on tour in Oceania and Asia while we're in Europe. Piotr and I aren't going to see each other for eight months.”

“Fuck, I didn't know that,” Remy said contritely. “I wouldn't have been complaining to you if I knew that.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “I don't believe that for a second. No one can stop you from talking about Marie. And it's alright. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Guess we're going to find that out.”

“His divorce final yet?” Remy asked as they approached his car. “That seems to have been going on forever.”

Kitty waited until they were in the car to respond. “She found out about me.”

“Who?”

“His soon-to-be ex-wife.”

Remy looked over at her. “So the soon-to-be ex-wife found out about the new girlfriend. So what?”

Kitty sighed heavily. “You're really going to make me tell you, aren't you?”

“You brought it up,” Remy said as the photographers began to swarm around the car. “You could have just said his divorce wasn't final yet and moved on.”

Kitty groaned as the flashes started. “I'm not exactly the post-divorce girlfriend.”

“You're not exactly the post-divorce girlfriend,” Remy said slowly. “Kitty. You shock me.”

“It has to stay an absolute secret, Remy,” Kitty said. “No one else in the band can know. Not even Marie can know.”

Remy sighed and reached out to start the car. “Fine. I'll keep your secret. I think you can trust everyone and, after they get over the initial shock, they'll understand, you homewrecker, but I'll keep it.”

“Maybe someday, and call me a homewrecker again and I'll cut off your balls,” Kitty said, leaning back in her seat as Remy carefully maneuvered the car from its parking spot and pulled away. “In the meantime, you can consider this the first of the million favors you owe me.”

“I do not owe you a million favors.”

“Remy, you made me try on dresses in public. You better believe you owe me favors.”

“No one saw but the lady that was helping us.”

“That was one person too many. Million favors, LeBeau.”

“Fine.”

**********

Emma dropped the newspapers down in front of Bobby with force. “Who's the girl?”

“Girl?” Bobby asked, glancing down at the papers. “What are you talking about?”

“You have been spotted regularly going in and out of that house,” Emma said, pointing to the front of the paper on top of the stack. “It's been picked up here and there in the papers but The _Post_ is finally convinced that you've got some secret lover because it's a pattern. Now tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Bobby picked up the paper on top and looked at the pictures, sighing heavily. “There's no girl, Emma.”

“Then who's the guy?”

Bobby let out a bitter chuckle. “There's no guy either.”

“Then what the fuck is going on?” Emma demanded.

Bobby set the newspaper down. “That's my therapist's house.”

Emma stared at him for a moment, opening and closing her mouth several times before speech came out. “Your _therapist_?”

“Erik told me and John to figure things out,” Bobby said, running his hands over his face. “We're trying to. But part of that includes me working on myself. I'm fucked up, Emma. I don't want to explain it to you, but I am. The therapist is helping with that.”

“I've got to come up with a cover story for a therapist now?” Emma said, incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You're in therapy?”

Bobby looked behind Emma to see John had just entered the rehearsal space. “Yes.”

John walked around Emma and over to Bobby. “Really?”

“Does it really fucking surprise you?” Bobby said bitterly. “You know how fucked up I am. You know it's your fault too.”

“Bobby...”

“No, don't start,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “There's nothing more you can say to me, John. You've said everything.”

John stared at him with hurt in his eyes. “So what? We're just bandmates now? Not even friends?”

“We've never been friends, John,” Bobby said, sighing heavily. “And no, we're not just bandmates. We're...something, but don't ask me what. So fuck, I don't know what to tell you.”

“As great as this little heart-to-heart has been, I really need to come up with a viable cover story for this before Erik loses his mind, which he's very close to doing,” Emma said, drawing their attention back to her. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “John and I have nothing else to talk about anyway.”

John stared at Bobby for a moment before stalking over to the other side of the space. Bobby took a deep breath before turning to Emma. “So, what's your idea?”

“We absolutely cannot let it get out that you're in therapy,” Emma said, looking at her iPad. “No offense, but that will really trash your rock and roll image.”

“I couldn't give a fuck about that,” Bobby said. “But Erik would kill me.”

“Exactly.” Emma tapped her pen against the iPad for a moment before sighing. “We really have no choice but to give them a girl. Do you have someone you can be seen out with a few times?”

“Seriously?” Bobby groaned. “I don't want to do that to someone, Emma.”

“Bobby, we need to bury this. Distracting the press with an actual girl will make them stop wondering what you're doing going to that house twice a week.”

“Someone is going to figure out whose house that is and why I'm there, Emma,” Bobby murmured, rubbing at his eyes as a headache started. “Besides, they've probably already caught Marie going there too.”

“Marie?”

“She sees the same guy. She's how I got in contact with him.”

“Fuck!” Emma exclaimed, collapsing down into a chair. “I think Marie is an absolutely wonderful person, don't get me wrong, but ever since she came into the band's life, you all have turned into an absolute motherfucking nightmare.”

“I think she's made us more human,” Bobby said quietly. “Before we were a machine. Everyone was nothing more than a working part in it. She came in and reminded us that we were people too.”

“That's a beautiful way of putting it, Bobby,” Kitty said from nowhere, and Bobby and Emma looked up to see her standing there. “Emma, fair warning, there were snaps outside of Piotr's this morning.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, motherfuck,” Emma said, banging her fist against her iPad. “You couldn't avoid them?”

“How was I supposed to get here if I didn't leave his house?” Kitty asked. “No, I couldn't avoid them.”

“Is his fucking divorce final yet?”

Kitty suddenly stood up a little straighter. “No, it's not. Don't talk to me about that.”

“Lady and gentlemen, can we please get this rehearsal done and over with,” Peter said as he walked in, holding his arms out wide. “My wife and daughter are waiting for me at home and given how little I will see of them for the next five months, I want to spend as much time as possible with them.”

“My wife and daughter are doing the exact same thing. But Remy's not here yet,” Scott said from behind the drum kit.

“Yes I am!” Remy yelled as he walked into the space. “Sorry, I'm a little late. Snaps everywhere this morning.”

“More fucking photographers!” Emma screamed, pulling at her hair. “I miss the days when you all weren't famous.”

“You do not and you know it,” Remy said, walking over to Emma and handing her an envelope. “Delivery from Sebastian.”

Emma looked at the envelope and then up at Remy. “Why are you giving me something from Sebastian?”

“Because he accidentally left it at our place and Sebastian said to give it to you on his behalf,” Remy said, grinning when Emma smiled at him. “Alright, Emma, get out of here so we can practice!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma said, gathering her stuff together. “Bobby, think about what I said. Find a girl.”

“I can't do that,” Bobby said. “Seriously.”

“Then I'll find a model who will be more than willing to do it for you,” Emma said. “All you'll have to do is fuck her a few times in return. I'm sure you'll have no problem with that.”

Everyone jumped at the sound of John's microphone being knocked over, but Bobby just rolled his eyes. “Find me a model then. A hot one. I'll fuck the hell out of her.”

“Done,” Emma said, putting her pen behind her ear. “Practice the shit out of those songs, guys. Erik wants this tour to be perfect. It's your audition to the world.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Bobby said as Emma walked out of the room. “Let's get started.”

**********

Remy leaned his head so it was resting against the sofa. “Did you like your gifts?”

“Yes,” Marie said. “They were completely unnecessary, but yes.”

“They were completely necessary,” Remy said. “It's Valentines.”

“Valentines is a manufactured holiday,” Marie said. “It has no significance to me.”

“I know you feel that way,” Remy said, laughing. “I remember the soliloquies about it from when we were younger. But it's our first Valentines together, and I thought it important to celebrate.”

Marie sighed. “What else do you have planned?”

“Dinner out,” Remy said, “for the two of us at The Modern.”

Marie chuckled. “You thought of everything, didn't you?”

“I tried to,” Remy stared, but Marie shifted around so she could give him a deep kiss.

“Thank Kitty for me,” Marie said when they broke apart, and she laughed at the surprise on Remy's face. “Come on, I know you didn't do this yourself.”

“How do you know it was Kitty?”

“Because I saw the photographs,” Marie said, turning around and reaching for the newspaper behind her. “'Remy LeBeau and Kitty Pryde: Are They Or Aren't They? And What About Their Partners?' It's a logical conclusion.”

Remy took the newspaper and looked over the photographs of him and Kitty, laughing at the salacious text that accompanied them. “We were both fucked off at Erik, decided to make his head explode,” he murmured, closing the paper and looking over at Marie. “Yes, she helped. Is that a crime? I just wanted to make sure your gifts were perfect.”

“Did I say it was a crime? I just said to thank her,” Marie said, taking the newspaper and putting it back where it had been. “She helped you pick well. I love these dresses and I cannot believe you bought me shoes. I mean, it's obvious from those alone that you had a woman help you. There's no way you would know what kind to buy.”

“I would have tried,” Remy said, shaking his head. “I will thank her profusely, trust me. She helped me not fuck up our first Valentines.”

“You couldn't have fucked up a holiday that I don't even want to celebrate,” Marie pointed out. “So seriously, next year, don't do this.”

“Marie, honestly,” Remy said, exasperation in his voice. “What is so fucking awful about Valentines Day? You never have actually told me that. Sure, it's a manufactured holiday, but it's not that. It goes deeper than that.”

Marie sighed and leaned back against the sofa, letting her head rest against the back. “My father used to make a huge deal out of Valentines Day. Showered my mother with gifts. And she would sit there and tell him all the reasons she hated this and hated that and then they would get into a huge fight and things would get thrown across the room and broken and it was utterly terrifying when I was small, but us children couldn't leave the room without being dismissed because those were the rules and you didn't break the rules or you'd have to face Father and you really didn't want to do that. Those are the days when I learned to swear as much as I do and when I learned to be absolutely terrified of being in love.”

Remy sat there for a moment, taking everything she had just said in. “Holy shit, Marie.”

“I told you, my parents were a nightmare,” Marie said, running her hands over her face. “And I'm still terrified of my father in a way.”

“You said you didn't want to face him if you broke the rules,” Remy murmured. “Why?”

“Three guesses. First two don't count.”

Remy reached out after a moment and took Marie's hand in his. “Am I the only man who's been this close to you that hasn't raised a hand to you?”

“Pretty much,” Marie said, sighing. “Even my brothers slapped me around when I was little until I got up the courage to slap them back. That stopped pretty quickly then.”

“That's why you never told your father Doug hit you,” Remy said, realization dawning on him. “You thought it would make him like Doug even more.”

“That's my father's preferred way of punishment,” Marie whispered. “Of course it would make him like Doug even more.”

Remy moved closer to Marie and pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face into his neck. “I'll never do that. Ever. I promise you that.”

“I know,” Marie mumbled into his neck as Remy held her close. “I believe you.”

Remy reached over and grabbed Marie's hand, squeezing it gently. He was never going to let either fucking Douglas Ramsey or fucking Owen D'Ancanto hurt Marie ever again.

Ever.

“Darling, this is all the more reason you should come with me on the tour,” Remy said after a few minutes. “I don't feel like you're safe here with them around. I don't know what they'll try to do to you next, and let's be honest, they've done some pretty monumental shit in the past few months.”

Marie pulled back and sniffled, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Okay.”

“Seriously, Marie, I really thin—” Remy stopped mid-sentence. “Did you just agree with me?”

“I did,” Marie said. “I'll come with you. I don't want to be here alone anyway, and you're right, who knows what either of them will do next. So I'll travel around Europe with my rock star for a few months instead.”

Remy leaned forward and kissed Marie softly. “You will not regret this decision. I hear Europe is very nice.”

Marie cracked up laughing. “I'm sure it is. Now, what time is dinner and which one of my new dresses should I wear?”


	23. Chapter 23

“How's Raven?”

Hank turned around and found Remy and Peter standing there, and he just shook his head and went back to making sure everyone's bags were tagged properly. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You brought Raven Darkholme, _the_ Raven Darkholme, to my wedding and since then you've pretended that you didn't,” Peter said, walking around him and sitting down on top of one of the luggage carts. 

“Come on, Hank. Talk to us,” Remy said, leaning up against a different cart. “We keep each other's secrets, remember.”

“I did not realize that meant mine as well,” Hank said, sighing. “You seriously want to know?”

“Yes,” Peter said. “Come on, man. We're friends.”

Hank took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. “I met her at one of your concerts.”

“Raven Darkholme was at one of our concerts?” Remy asked. “I don't remember that.”

“That's because she never made it to the dressing room,” Hank said. “I met her to bring her backstage and we just clicked. We spent the whole night talking. It's kind of been a whirlwind ever since, but a slow one because we want to do this right. It's a very long distance, lots of late night phone calls and Skype, kind of thing. But she's amazing, guys. I don't think of her as this great actress and world famous star when I'm talking to her. I just think of her as Raven, this wonderful woman that for some reason is interested in me.”

“Hey, don't sell yourself short,” Remy said. “You're great. I mean, sure, we make fun of you a lot, but it's only jokingly. We all know what a nice guy you are.”

Hank laughed. “Thanks. I think I knew that but it's nice to have it confirmed.”

“Seriously though,” Peter said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Crystal told me she is really close to casting Raven in her new film. So they're going to talk a lot.”

“So that's why you wanted to come to talk to me about her,” Hank said, sighing. “Is this you giving me a warning or you telling me it's already started?”

“Well, I assume it's already started,” Peter said. “Crystal said she's talked to Raven a lot about the role, but I'm sure they've talked about other things. I mean, Raven was at our wedding and Crystal knows it was because of you.”

“I'll talk to Raven about it. You ready for this tour?” Hank asked, changing the subject.

“I'll let you get away with that for now, Hank. But yeah, I think I am. It was hard this morning. Luna looked at me during our goodbyes and asked me if I was saying goodbye forever,” Peter said, pain in his voice. “I had to explain to her that it wasn't forever, but that it was for a long time. I'm not sure she understood it. She is only two. Five months probably will feel like forever to her. I know it will to me.”

Remy reached out and put a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright,” Peter said. “I know why I'm doing this. I know why I'm going to be away for her for so long. And it's so she doesn't grow up in the projects surrounded by a bunch of drug addicts like I did.”

“I didn't realize it had been that bad for you,” Hank said. 

“My neighborhood was rough, man. My sister, I know she got involved in stuff she shouldn't have been at an age when she definitely shouldn't have been. And I know what I got up to. I never wanted that for my kids,” Peter said. “That's why I worked my ass off to get to Columbia. That's why I work my ass off for this band. That's why I didn't drop out of school until the absolute last minute when it became obvious the band was going somewhere. And that's why I'm willing to be away from my daughter for months on end. To make sure she'll never have to live in the fucking projects as I did.”

“I think you've got enough money now to be assured of that,” Hank pointed out.

“Money in a bank account doesn't take away my motivation,” Peter said.

Remy looked up as Sean approached looking miserable. “What is going on, Sean? You look like shit.”

“Moira wants to talk,” Sean said, sitting down on the luggage cart next to Peter. “I don't know what the fuck to do.”

“What's the harm in talking to her?” Remy asked, then backed off when he got a glare from Sean. “Okay, I retract that statement.”

“No, don't,” Peter said, looking over at Sean. “Seriously, what's the fucking harm in talking to her?”

“You're actually asking me that? You were at my house that night,” Sean said, groaning. “I miss her. That's the harm.”

“Look, you two obviously got off to a disastrous start with your relationship, but I think a conversation wouldn't hurt things,” Peter said. “I mean, maybe she's had time to reflect on what it is she did and realize what it is she's missing.”

“I don't know if I could take her back though,” Sean pointed out. “She opened her legs for anyone that wanted her.”

“I don't know about that, but I will agree that she was definitely not faithful. But it's not like you were either.”

Sean sighed. “God, fucking Maeve Rourke was such a motherfucking mistake. I wish I'd never done it.”

“Maybe Moira wishes she'd never done stuff that she did,” Remy said. “It's entirely possible that time away made you both look at your relationship with clearer heads. You two were obviously not communicating well.”

“We weren't communicating at all,” Sean snorted. “Our phone conversations were never conversations, they were phone sex. We never talked about anything.”

“Well, maybe you should start,” Hank interjected. “Communication is important.”

“I completely agree with that,” Remy said. “If Marie and I didn't talk about things, especially with what we're going through with that Ramsey lunatic, our relationship would have ended a long time ago.”

“Crystal and I wouldn't have a relationship if we hadn't actually talked when we were apart,” Peter said. “Those first weeks when we were apart and just Skyping each other at night were when our relationship was really built.”

Hank took a deep breath. “And that's what Raven and I are doing right now.”

Peter and Remy grinned at him as Sean looked at him with surprise. “So you're actually going to talk to us about her now, Hank? Because you have refused to say a thing about her since Peter's wedding.”

“Yeah,” Hank said, nodding. “We are friends, after all. And we keep each other's secrets.”

“Yes,” Remy said, his grin widening. “Yes, we do.”

“Alright! Everyone get over here!” came Erik's voice. “We need to have a meeting before you leave! That means you too, Marie!”

Remy sighed as Peter and Sean groaned but stood up. 

“He'd better leave Marie out of this,” Remy said.

“Fucking Erik with his fucking rules,” Peter muttered.

“We're not going to have any fun on this tour,” Sean muttered back.

“You always do anyway,” Hank pointed out as they started to walk away. “And you always break Erik's rules.”

“Good point!” Sean called out.

**********

Bobby felt fantastic as they got back to the dressing room after their first show in Dublin. The band was its typical self after opening night of a tour, jumping up and down and yelling back and forth about the show, and it had been exhilarating to play in front of a crowd that large in fucking Ireland and hear all of their songs sung back at them. It was a motherfucking dream come true and Bobby was in heaven.

And then the dressing room door opened and in walked all the beautiful women. 

Bobby made his way to the alcohol table and started downing glass after glass of whiskey, trying to remind himself of what he'd promised he'd do during the tour. He wasn't going to dwell on John and he was going to have fun, no matter what.

Who was he kidding? That lasted all of ten minutes.

Bobby found himself watching John sweet talk Irish girls the way he had watched him sweet talk American girls in the past. It didn't surprise him in the least, but the moment John kissed the first one, it cut him to the quick. He poured himself another drink and knocked it back as John turned to the other girl sitting on his lap and kissed her, and Bobby found himself wishing he could be anywhere in the world other than where he was.

How the fuck was he ever supposed to do this? How was he ever supposed to be near him without being in this kind of pain?

“Just ignore him,” Marie murmured as she walked up next to him. “You know what he's like the first night of a tour. You knew to expect this.”

“I know what he's like any night of a tour,” Bobby said, pouring himself another drink. “I knew to expect it because this is nothing new.”

“Yet it's bothered you enough to have drunk almost the entire bottle of whiskey in about fifteen minutes,” Marie pointed out, reaching for it and waving it in Darwin's direction. “Slow down, Bobby.”

“I know what I'm doing,” Bobby said defensively. “I know how much liquor I can handle.”

“I'm not saying you don't,” Marie said. “I'm just saying someone is going to notice how much you're drinking and start to wonder why, and then they'll start noticing that you spend all night staring at him.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Marie said, pouring herself a drink. “What happened to having fun on this tour?”

“I am having fun.”

Marie knocked back her drink and gave Bobby a look. “Don't lie to me, Bobby.”

Bobby sighed. “I'm going to have fun. It's just been a while since I've seen him like that.”

Marie glanced behind herself to see John seriously kissing one of the girls while one of his hands was underneath the other's skirt. “You said he wants you back. So show him what he's missing.”

Bobby nearly choked on his drink. “Excuse me?”

“Find yourself some girl and put on a show,” Marie said quietly. “Let him see what he could be having tonight.”

“I don't know if I can resist him if he tries to come to get it,” Bobby mumbled. 

“Then take the girl back to your hotel room before he gets the chance to try to come to get it,” Marie said, pouring herself another drink and patting Bobby on the shoulder. “Just a suggestion. Only you know what's best for you.”

“What are you going to do?” Bobby asked. “You know Erik wants Remy to keep up appearances.”

“We're going to go sit on the stage and drink. Fuck Erik.” Marie just smiled at him before walking away. 

Bobby chuckled as Darwin approached with a new bottle of whiskey. “Thanks, Darwin.”

“That was fucking fast, Bobby,” Darwin said, shaking his head. “Slow it down a little, maybe?”

“Fuck off,” Bobby said, grabbing the new bottle and heading towards the crowd. 

The moment he sat down, a beautiful brunette sat down on his lap, and Bobby plastered a fake smile on his face and turned on the rock star act he'd perfected over the years. She was giggling at everything he said in a matter of moments, and the more he drank, the prettier she became. Kissing her was all wrong, soft where he wanted hard, but he was drunk enough that it was somewhat satisfying. 

When the call came out that it was time to go back to the hotel, he asked her to go with him even though he would have much rather been alone. But he was Bobby fucking Drake, one of the two single members of The Mutants, and he knew Erik would kill him if he didn't act like it. And if he just told himself that was why he was taking this girl whose name he wasn't sure he'd even asked for back to his hotel room, then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to get through it.

Hours later, when the girl whose name he still didn't know was kissing him goodbye and leaving, Bobby laid there on his bed naked as the day he was born and stared up at the ceiling. John had the room next to his, and Bobby could clearly tell that John hadn't sent the girls away. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of John fucking the hell out of one of them, parsing out her shouts and honing in on John's cries of pleasure. 

Listening to John made a picture form in Bobby's mind, except it wasn't one of the blonde bimbos that John had taken to his room, it was Bobby writhing beneath him. It didn't take long for Bobby's hand to drift down his body and start touching himself. It didn't matter that his cock was still sensitive from all of the sex he'd just had with the girl; in his mind he was with John, having the sex that he'd craved ever since the last night they'd spent together all those months ago.

It wasn't long until the girl reached her climax in John's room, and it wasn't long until Bobby reached his either. Silence descended upon both rooms, Bobby breathing hard as he let the mental images continue. John collapsing down on top of him, John kissing him in that way that was just perfect, John sliding off to the side and slinging an arm across Bobby's waist, mumbling about cleaning themselves up after a short nap, John snoring softly next to him in a matter of moments. Sex with John was great, but the intimacy of those moments afterward was something Bobby _lived_ for.

When he opened his eyes to his otherwise empty hotel room, Bobby took one more deep breath before looking down at the sticky mess he'd made. Forcing himself up and into the en suite, he turned on the shower and slid down to the bottom of it, letting the spray beat down over him.

There was no way he was going to have fun on this tour. And there was one simple reason for it, and as much as Bobby hated it, he loved it all the same.

John Allerdyce had ruined him for anyone else, even a cheap one night stand.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a completely embarrassingly fashion, I must mention that in doing some minor grammatical editing on this story, I realized that chapter 11 had been posted twice instead of chapter 10 and chapter 11. I have corrected this now, so if you want to go back and read chapter 10 to know what it actually was, it's there for you to do so.

When the tour reached Stockholm, Remy darted out of the bus as soon as it pulled up to the venue and dashed through the backstage until he found the dressing room. He paused in front of the door and collected himself before throwing the door open and walking inside, a grin forming on his face when Marie came into view. “Hello, darling.”

“How do three days feel like forever?” Marie murmured, smiling at Remy when he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “Because I went back to New York for three days and it feels like it's been thirty years.”

“That's because three days without you is forever,” Remy said, leaning forward and catching Marie's lips in a deep kiss. 

“Oh fuck, sorry.” 

Remy and Marie broke apart and looked over at the door, and as soon as Remy saw who was standing there, he groaned. “Bloody motherfucking shit. What the fuck are you doing here, Madrox?”

“Nice to fucking see you too, Remy,” the man said, walking further into the dressing room and coming over to Remy and Marie. “Hello, I'm James Madrox. I'm the band's opening act for the rest of their tour.”

Marie's eyes widened as the man reached out a hand, and she tentatively shook it. “James Madrox.”

“Just James, if you don't mind,” he said, smiling at her. “And you are?”

“Oh, you have got to be motherfucking kidding me,” came Bobby's voice, and Marie saw him for a brief second over James's shoulder before Bobby spun around and marched out of the dressing room. 

Remy sighed heavily but Marie just shook her head. “I'll go find Bobby.”

“You sure?”

“I think he might talk to me more than you,” Marie murmured before walking out of the room and heading towards the stage, hoping that would be where Bobby was. She found him taking his guitars out of their cases and setting them up where he wanted them to be for the night's show, and she just stood there for a few moments. 

“I know you're there,” he eventually said, and so Marie walked onto the stage and sat down on the nearest speaker. 

“So that's him.”

“That's him,” Bobby said, tossing an empty guitar case to the stage with a loud clatter. “I don't know why the fuck he's here and I don't motherfucking care. All I have to do is get through this night and he'll be gone.”

“You're really not going to like what I have to tell you then.”

Bobby looked up at Marie. “What?”

“He's apparently your opening act for the rest of the tour.”

Bobby picked up the empty guitar case he'd just tossed aside and threw it across the stage, watching as it knocked over a few microphones before sliding to a stop. “Fuck!”

Marie just sat there while Bobby ran his hands through his hair repeatedly and cursed up a storm, waiting for him to calm down enough to have a conversation. Eventually, he sat down on the speaker next to her and sighed heavily. 

“I don't know how to do this, Marie. I don't know how to be with him and I sure as fuck don't know how to be without him. Am I that fucking pathetic?”

“I don't think that makes you pathetic,” Marie said softly. “I think it makes you in love with someone who treats you like fucking garbage. I know what that's like. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't love you back. I know Doug loved me in his own fucked up way.”

“I don't even know that,” Bobby said. “He tried to claim it, but I just don't believe it. Not with other things he's said and done.”

“I think he does, for what it's worth,” Marie said, looking out at the empty arena. “Just not in the way you want him to.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Bobby said after a few moments. “If Doug hadn't ended things with you, would you still be with him?”

“I'd like to think the answer would be no,” Marie said, sighing heavily. “But realistically? I think the answer would probably be yes.”

“Why?”

Marie reached up and ran a hand through her long hair. “I'd come to the conclusion that no one was going to be able to love me the way he did. I wasn't worth anything else.”

“That's what Robert keeps talking to me about. Whether I think I'm worth being treated any better than he treats me.”

“And?”

“And I sure as fuck know I am,” Bobby said strongly. “That's why I have called time on this bullshit. But what does it say about me that I would literally do anything to have him back?”

“It's not you that has to do anything,” Marie pointed out. “I think you've probably already changed enough for him. You shouldn't have to change any more.”

“I know why he is the way he is,” Bobby said, running his hands over his face. “And knowing that makes a million things make more sense. But that's not enough. Why is it not enough?”

“Because it's not about why he is the way he is, it's about the way he is,” Marie said after a minute. “It's a matter of what you choose to accept. And what you've chosen is that his behavior towards you is not acceptable anymore.”

“And what if I want to change my mind?”

“You don't,” Marie murmured. “Remy's told me about your past attempts to end things. You gave in after a few days. This has been months, Bobby. If you wanted to change your mind, you would have done it a long time ago.”

Bobby sat there for a few moments before looking over at Marie. “I'm glad you got away from Doug, no matter how it happened.”

“Thank you, but no changing the subject on me.”

Bobby sighed heavily. “So you think I really mean it this time. I really want to end things.”

“I think you're at least really serious about them changing,” Marie said. “It's not really my place to determine whether you want to really end things or not.”

“This is going to sound really weird, but Robert asked me what I wanted him to treat me like, and you know what my answer was? A goddess. I want him to treat me like a goddess.”

“I don't think that's weird,” Marie said softly. “I think it just illustrates what you really want.”

“And what I can never have.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“If you do, then why are you still trying to get it?”

Bobby stared out into the empty arena for a moment. “Because there's part of me that still hopes he can give it to me.”

“Bobby.” They both looked up to see Darwin standing there. “Sorry to interrupt, but you've got an interview to do.”

Bobby nodded and stood up, then helped Marie up. “Not a word, Marie.”

“Never is, Bobby,” Marie said, walking towards Darwin. “Is the interview in the dressing room, Darwin? Where should I be during it?”

**********

Remy was laying in bed with Marie, running his fingers through her hair. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Marie said. “I didn't realize how quiet that house is without you.”

“I didn't realize how much I needed to see you every day,” Remy murmured. “Thank God for Skype or I don't know what I'd be doing.”

“You'd have survived,” Marie said, shifting closer to him. “Doug came by while I was there. Tried yet again to make me see his fucked up version of reason.”

Remy let his head fall back against the pillow. “I know he has to be part of our lives until this lawsuit bullshit is settled, but sometimes I'd just like to find some way to cut him out of our lives for good.”

“Well, it's a good thing I've decided that's what I'm going to do then, isn't it?” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “While I was there, on my behalf, Charles filed a counter lawsuit against Doug. I've got every photograph of bruises I ever sent Jubilee, I've got every record for every time I was injured enough to require medical treatment, I've got all the paperwork he's tried to get me to sign, I've got everything he's done to me and you, and I've got no patience left. I want him out of my motherfucking life. I'm hoping for an injunction keeping him away from you and me until the court decides upon the case.”

Remy leaned in and kissed Marie softly. “I think you did the right thing.”

“Yeah?” Marie said, her voice a little apprehensive. “Because I'm scared to death over it.”

“You're worried about what he's going to do in retaliation, right?” At the slight nod of Marie's head, Remy continued. “Given your history, that does not surprise me. But I really do think you're doing the right thing, Marie. And I'll be by your side through all of it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marie said, resting her head on Remy's shoulder. “My father is going to kill me.”

“No, he's not,” Remy said. 

“I'm not counting on that,” Marie said, bitterness in her voice. “He's announcing his engagement to the nineteen-year-old next week, according to Sebastian.”

“He's seriously going to marry her? That's...I'm not sure there are words for that.”

“Alexander's furious, Henry's furious, I'm furious. None of it seems to matter. He's just thinking with his dick, which is something I'd expect from a teenager, not a man in his sixties. We're thinking of cutting all ties with him.”

“You're his heirs. How can you cut all ties with him?”

“He's got most of our inheritances tied up in trusts, and since we've all gotten the first phase of that inheritance, he can't change them. He'll probably cut off the money we're getting from him now though,” Marie said, sighing. “We're talking about a clean break, bringing all of our support staff with us. Sebastian has already agreed to come work for the three of us if we really do this. Doing it will mean a bit of a PR blitz, and probably another feature in _Vanity Fair_ , but it's something that's becoming increasingly necessary.”

“You know you have my full support in that as well,” Remy said, stifling a yawn. “I actually think that's good. Anything to get you away from your father.”

“You can't hate him forever just because I told you that he used to slap me around a bit.”

“I can and I will,” Remy said seriously. “You're just lucky that I am choosing not to have words with your brothers about it.”

“They were children,” Marie said firmly. “They didn't know what they were doing, and they stopped it pretty quick. So you better not ever be having words with them about it.”

“Fine,” Remy said, adjusting his arm around Marie's shoulders and drawing her closer. “Why didn't you tell me any of this on one of our phone calls?”

“These didn't seem like topics to discuss with you over the telephone,” Marie said, letting an arm drape across Remy's waist. “Besides, I could barely get a word in edgewise in most of those phone calls. You've been so excited about playing these shows that you've been talking almost non-stop.”

“We're on an arena tour of Europe, Marie,” Remy said, wonder in his voice. “Europe! I'm standing in front of crowds of thousands of non-Americans every night listening to my words be sung back at me. It's insanity.”

“Well, it shouldn't be,” Marie said. “You're good enough to be the best band in the world as far as I'm concerned. And one day you will be.”

“All that means is more time away from home,” Remy said, his voice serious again. “And if you have to be in New York for these lawsuits, potentially more time away from you. And that would kill me, Marie.”

“It would kill me too,” Marie said softly. “But to see your face on that stage tonight? I'd think it's worth it.”

Remy let out another yawn. “I don't want to admit that it is.”

“Admit it,” Marie said, poking him in the side.

“Oh, alright, it'd be worth it,” Remy said, a smile on his face. “You are my life, but being on that stage...that just brings something out of me that I never thought I would ever be able to experience, and now that I have it, I don't know how I'll ever be able to go without it. I'm a musician for life now, I'm afraid.”

“That's alright,” Marie said, laughing. “How can we be the socialite and the rock star if you're not the rock star?”

“Good point,” Remy said, yawning again. “Alright, despite the fact that I want to talk to you all night, I think it's best I sleep.”

“I think that is a probably good idea,” Marie said, settling next to him. “After all, you've got to deal with a show and a television appearance tomorrow. You're going to be worn out.”

“I already am just thinking about it,” Remy laughed, reaching over to turn out the lamp. “Goodnight, love.”

**********

_This is a song for my ex_  
 _All loving you ever did was get me hurt_  
 _So I deleted all your pictures from my phone_  
 _Erased your number too_  
 _Told myself I'm over you_  
 _You made my heart break over and over_  
 _Came crawling back time after time_  
 _But now you'll never bring me down again_  
 _I won't cry over you anymore_

“This is the kind of shit that made this guy famous in the States?” Bobby muttered, glancing over at where John was bobbing his head along to James's song. “Fucking prick.”

“I wouldn't exactly call him famous if after all these years he's only good enough to be opening for us,” Kitty said, following Bobby's gaze over to John. “And you shouldn't be worried about that.”

“What, worried that the fucking idiot is going to jump back into bed with what he calls his biggest mistake after he's admitted to me all that he thinks about is his fucking cock?” Bobby laughed bitterly. “Why would I be worried about that?”

“James's settled down now, has a very nice wife and a daughter,” Kitty said. “He's not going to jump into bed with John.”

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Bobby said, turning his attention back to the stage. “He's motherfucking awful.”

“He's not awful,” Kitty said, shaking her head. “He's not at our level, but he's not awful. Then again, there are not many bands at our level at the moment. Did you see the promo Erik scheduled for the album release day?”

“No,” Bobby said, looking over at her. “Where did you see that?”

“The fucking emails he's always going on about,” Kitty said. “We're in Berlin on album release day. We're doing a concert that's live on morning television, a host of live performances on various shows and networks and radio throughout the day, a live release party at some store, and then we're taping a performance on one of the late night shows that films in Berlin before the concert that night. It's going to be a crazy, hectic day of promotion, but if it gets the album to number one in Germany, then it'll have been worth it.”

“Fuck,” Bobby said, his eyes wide. “Have we ever done that much promo in one day?”

“Nope,” Kitty said. “We're going to work our asses off that day. The concert will feel like a relief, though I'm concerned about how my voice is going to be by the time for it if we're performing all fucking day.”

“For this next song, I'm going to bring a special guest on stage,” came James's voice. “Everybody, let's hear it for John Allerdyce!”

Kitty's arm shot out to stop Bobby when he started to dart forward towards the stage, holding him back as John walked on stage and grabbed his guitar. “Bobby, don't. You can't.”

“They're fucking performing together?” Bobby squeezed his fists into balls as hard as he possibly could. “Kitty, I want to kill him.”

“It's just a song, Bobby,” Kitty tried to soothe. “It's just a song.”

“Fuck that it's just a song,” Bobby said between gritted teeth. “It's _him_ , Kitty. He knows what that man does to me and he's fucking on stage with him anyway.”

“This is a special song that John and I wrote together,” came James's voice again. “So I hope you like it.”

Kitty stopped Bobby from going onto the stage again. “Bobby, seriously, you know you can't.”

“I'm going to fucking kill him, Kitty. I motherfucking swear it.”

“I don't blame you for being angry,” Kitty said, her voice calm. “But you cannot do anything about it right now.”

_This is our love song_   
_And it's a secret love too_   
_Only you know this is about you_   
_I can say Providence and you know what I mean_

Kitty had to literally pull Bobby back by his shirt after James sang that line, and she shoved him up against the nearest speaker and got in his face. “I do not care about whatever that means. You cannot go on stage and interrupt them.”

“He wrote a song with James motherfucking Madrox about _me_ ,” Bobby practically yelled. “I am going to kill him, Kitty.”

“Look, I admit that was a really, really motherfucking dick move on his part, but you can't go out there, Bobby. Come on, think for a minute,” Kitty said, looking around for some help. “Remy! Get over here!”

Remy gave Kitty a confused look but left Marie's side and walked over to them. “What is going on?”

“John has apparently written a song about Bobby with James,” Kitty said as calmly as she could, struggling to keep Bobby against the speaker after she said it again. “Please help. I can only hold him for so long.”

“Bobby,” Remy said, walking around to Kitty's other side and pinning him up against the speaker. “You can't go out there.”

“I'm going to kill him.”

“And he'll deserve it, but you can't go out there,” Remy said, taking a deep breath when he heard the Providence reference again. “Oh John, you lousy motherfucker, you did not put that in there.”

“Yes, he motherfucking did,” Bobby said, slumping against them, tears burning behind his eyes. “Do I really mean so little to him that he'd do this? Really?”

Kitty wrapped Bobby up in her arms while Remy looked over at the stage where John had started in on the guitar solo. “What is Providence?” she whispered.

Remy turned back to her. “It's where they first slept together,” he whispered back, making Kitty's eyes widen.

“John, you fucking pathetic son of a bitch,” Kitty exclaimed, shaking her head as Bobby shook against her. “I should let Bobby onto that stage.”

“No, no, I can't,” Bobby mumbled, blinking back tears against her shoulder. “You're right, I can't.”

Kitty pulled him into a tighter embrace. “Bobby, I hate to sound like a complete bitch, but you've got to put this to the side and pull yourself together. We've got a concert to do.”

“She's right,” Remy said quietly as he could. “We're on in about fifteen minutes.”

Bobby took a deep breath and straightened himself up, disentangling himself from Kitty's embrace and reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “Alright. Alright. I can do this. I can do this.”

Remy reached out and put a hand on Bobby's shoulder. “What can I do?”

“Add _Let You Go_ to the set list tonight.” Bobby said, looking at Remy for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. But just me and the guitar. Tell everyone but John.”

Remy nodded, squeezing Bobby's shoulder before walking off. Kitty turned to Bobby and gave him a sad smile. “You sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah, Kitty, I'm sure,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath as John and James finished their song. “He's going to want to know what I thought of that song. _Let You Go_ is a great response to it.”

“Guys,” came Hank's voice. “Wardrobe and makeup check in the dressing room.”

Kitty and Bobby nodded and they both walked right past John as he came off the stage. If John was confused about that, Kitty thought, then he really was an idiot.


	25. Chapter 25

“Alright, Munich, sometimes we like to throw a cover into the setlist, and tonight, that's what we're going to do,” Remy said to a round of cheers. “So ladies and gentlemen, Bobby Drake!”

John leaned over to Bobby with a confused look. “What is he talking about?”

“You're not playing on this one,” Bobby said back, taking a deep breath before stepping up to Remy's microphone. “Evening, everyone.”

The crowd cheered some more and Bobby smiled. “We all haven't learned to play this song yet, so you're just going to have to listen to me singing and Peter on piano. But this is a cover of A Great Big World's song _Say Something_. Hope you like it.”

Bobby turned to Peter and nodded, and Peter started to play. He took a deep breath before turning to the microphone, closing his eyes and beginning to sing.

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_I'll be the one if you want me to_   
_Anywhere I would've followed you_   
_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_And I am feeling so small_   
_It was over my head_   
_I know nothing at all_   
_And I will stumble and fall_   
_I'm still learning to love_   
_Just starting to crawl_

Remy went and sat down on the raised part of the stage where John was, looking over at him. “You alright?”

John just shook his head, unsure he could speak. He knew instantly why Bobby had chosen this song for the cover that night, and he was terrified of its implications. 

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you_   
_Anywhere I would've followed you_   
_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_And I will swallow my pride_   
_You're the one that I love_   
_And I'm saying goodbye_

“Fuck,” John murmured, reaching for his bottle of water. “Why didn't anyone tell me he was singing this tonight?”

“Because that's the way he wanted it,” Remy said, clasping John on the shoulder before standing up, leaving John there in his misery.

John sat there entranced by Bobby's performance and haunted by the words he was singing. Was Bobby giving up? Had he finally pushed him to the final breaking point? That was the last thing he was trying to do. He was trying to make him see how much he actually cared about him. He was just motherfucking shit at expressing it.

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you_   
_And anywhere I would've followed you_   
_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_Say something, I'm giving up on you_   
_Say something_

Bobby and Peter finished off the song and the crowd went wild, bringing a sad smile to Bobby's face. “Thank you, everyone. Now back to the actual show.”

Bobby walked away from the microphone as Kitty asked the crowd to give it up for Bobby one more time, and John stood up and approached him, fear in his eyes. “Bobby.”

“Not now, John.”

“Bobby, we have to talk about that song.”

“Not in the middle of a concert, we don't,” Bobby said, switching guitars and taking a deep breath. “Get the fuck away from me and concentrate.”

“How am I supposed to concentrate after that?”

“Well, considering the fact that you don't give a fuck about me, it shouldn't be so hard,” Bobby snapped, turning around and plastering a smile on his face. “Go get ready for the next song.”

“Bobby.”

“Allerdyce, motherfucking get ready for the next song,” Bobby said, shoving John away. “Do not fuck up this concert.”

John stared at Bobby for a moment before walking back to his place on the stage, swallowing hard as Bobby started playing the opening notes to _Strangers in Paris._ Concentrate. He had to concentrate. And once the concert was over, he was going to corner Bobby and find out what the fuck that song was supposed to mean. 

Because it couldn't mean what he thought it meant. 

He couldn't live without Bobby.

He couldn't.

*****

The after party in the dressing room kept John from talking to Bobby immediately, and despite the array of beautiful women on offer, John wasn't tempted at all. He couldn't think about women, he couldn't think about sex, he couldn't think about anything but Bobby. And so maybe he acted like he normally did, sweet talking the ladies and drawing them into kisses and caresses, but when it came time to go back to the hotel, John didn't invite any of them to go back with him.

Neither, he noticed, did Bobby.

When they got to the hotel and everyone had filed into their rooms for the night, John spent about thirty seconds inside his before leaving it and heading across the hall to Bobby's door. He knocked on it, their secret knock devised years ago, and after a few moments, Bobby cracked the door open. He stared at John with weariness in his eyes for a moment before unchaining the door and letting John in, closing the door behind them.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bobby asked, leaning up against the wall by the door. “Whatever it is, say it and get the fuck out.”

“Bobby,” John started, leaning up against the wall opposite him. “I have a lot I want to say to you, but that song tonight.”

“It was just a fucking cover, John.”

“No, it wasn't,” John murmured, shaking his head. “You chose it on purpose.”

Bobby sighed and pushed himself away from the wall, walking into the room and collapsing down on one of the beds. “So what if I did. It doesn't matter. Nothing I say matters.”

John let his head fall back against the wall. “Why do you think nothing you say matters?”

“Because it clearly doesn't,” Bobby said, running his hands over his face. “I know how this goes, John. You come in here upset because of something I did, you tell me all the reasons why I didn't need to do what I did, then you try to get me to fuck, to which I always give in because I always want to fuck you, and then you leave without saying another thing, leaving me to feel used as usual. So tell me what about tonight is going to be different, please.”

“I'm not here to tell you that you didn't need to sing that song,” John said, taking a deep breath. “I understand why you sang the song.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?”

John pushed away from the wall and walked over to where Bobby was, sitting down on the side of the bed. “I'm here because we need to talk about the finality of that song.”

“Are you really surprised? What the fuck did you expect? Champagne and roses?” Bobby laughed bitterly. “You keep telling me you want to fix this and then you keep doing shit that makes the divide between us worse. That song you wrote with Madrox? Are you fucking kidding me? You wrote a song that personal about me with the man you fucking slept with? I wanted to march on stage and kill you right then and there.”

“I had the lyrics,” John said softly. “I couldn't quite get the music right. I should have asked someone in the band, I know, but James ended up being there and then he was so excited about the song he wanted to perform it and I just thought that maybe if you heard it...it was a fucking mistake. I know it.”

“I don't even know what the fuck the song even says,” Bobby admitted. “I stopped listening after Providence. Motherfucking Providence. And it came out of his fucking mouth. I should strangle you for that.”

John ran a hand through his hair. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve worse,” Bobby said, sighing heavily. “Why are you here, John? Why don't you just accept what the song meant and move on?”

“Because I can't,” John said, turning towards Bobby. “I can't accept that.”

“Why the fuck not? Just stop torturing me. Please,” Bobby pleaded.

“I don't mean to torture you. And I can't accept it because I need you in my life. I can't live without you.”

“Oh fuck, get the fuck out,” Bobby exclaimed. “Don't tell me this bullshit.”

John reached out and grabbed Bobby's hand before it could shove him. “Bobby. It's not bullshit.”

“You don't fucking care about me,” Bobby mumbled. “You told me as much.”

“I never told you I don't care about you,” John said, bringing Bobby's hand up to kiss. “Seeing this therapist has really helped, Bobby. She's made me realize how important you are to me and my life.”

Bobby pulled his hand away from John's grasp and rolled onto his side, turning his back to him. “Sure wasn't important to you when you were taking two or three girls back to your room every night at the start of the tour.”

“That's 'cause I'm scared and I went back to what I know best. And I should be a better man to you. You deserve that. But I'm working on it, Bobby. I'm trying. Please don't give up on me now. There's so much I want to tell you.”

“Fuck, John. Why do you always do this to me?”

“Please, Bobby. I'm just asking for a chance.”

“You've had a billion chances,” Bobby said, swallowing hard. “Why should I give you another one?”

“You shouldn't,” John admitted. “But I'm asking you to give me one anyway.”

Silence descended upon the room for several minutes, John sitting there and waiting patiently until Bobby rolled back over and sat up. “I must be motherfucking insane. One more chance. One. You fuck this up and I'm done.”

“Okay,” John whispered, noting how close they were. “I won't. I promise.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep,” Bobby whispered back, looking in his eyes.

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both moved and their lips met in the middle in a deep kiss. They broke apart and then dove back in, again and again and again, kissing harder each time. After a while, they scrambled around and grabbed onto each other, hands immediately working to divest each other of their shirts. When they broke apart to peel the shirts away, John took a deep breath.

“This is a mistake.”

“I don't care,” Bobby said, leaning forward and trailing kisses up John's neck. “It's been too long. I need this.”

“You sure?”

“John, get your fucking pants off.”

**********

Kitty watched how Bobby and John were studiously ignoring each other for about an hour until she realized it. And when she did, a smile spread across her face. Finally. Fucking finally.

“What are you grinning about, Kitty?” Peter asked, prompting everyone to look over at her.

“Um, just remembering a text from Piotr from last night,” Kitty said, praying that Peter wouldn't call her on it.

Peter gave her a look that said he knew she was lying but let it go. “How's his tour going?”

Kitty and Peter conversed about Piotr and Colossus's tour for a while until both Bobby and John had left the dressing room, and Kitty sighed with relief. 

“They had sex,” she said, interrupting Peter. “Bobby and John.”

“No way,” Peter said, shaking his head. “They are not acting like they normally act when they have sex after an argument.”

“This is different than an argument though,” Kitty said. “Trust me, they had sex.”

“And why do you think that?” Sean asked.

“Because I know what to look for,” Kitty declared. “You all are too male to see it, but as I am a female, I notice these things.”

“Like what?” Sean said.

“Like the lovebite that is just barely peeking out of the neck of Bobby's shirt, and will be on full display when he puts on his stage outfit,” Kitty said, leaning back in her chair. “And the way John's hand twitched every time Bobby got near him because he was longing to reach out and touch him. They had sex. I know it.”

“There is no way there's a lovebite from John on Bobby's neck,” Remy said, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Bobby didn't take anyone back to the hotel last night,” Kitty pointed out. “And he definitely didn't have that yesterday. Given how long it's been since the last time they had sex, it's probably not the only one Bobby has.”

“I'm with Remy on this one,” Scott said. “You're imagining things.”

“What do you think, Marie?” Sean asked. “You're being awfully quiet.”

Marie sighed as everyone's attention turned to her. “I think it's highly unlikely that they would be having sex, but I also think Kitty is right about her noticing these things when you'd be oblivious to them. So I'm not sure.”

The door opened and Bobby and John were shepherded inside by Hank. “Concert's in an hour so it's time to get dressed. Girls will be in here in a minute to get your hair and makeup done.”

The band slowly got to their feet as their stylist rolled the clothing rack into the room and Marie slipped out of the room. Everyone started to strip their clothes off, even Kitty, who'd grown so accustomed to changing around the guys that no one even blinked at it anymore. Everyone but John trained their eyes on Bobby when he stripped off his shirt, and Kitty smiled when she saw his torso was dotted in lovebites. She was so right.

Bobby glanced around and noticed everyone else was staring at him, and he just shook his head. “Fuck off.”

John glanced over at them, then at Bobby's skin, and a large smile crossed his face. “Bobby is right. Fuck off.”

Kitty laughed. “Told you.”

“Can everyone please concentrate?” the stylist asked, drawing their attention back to what they were supposed to be doing. 

In a matter of minutes, they were all dressed in their stage outfits and the stylist was rolling the clothing rack out of the room. The hair and makeup girls came in and their makeup artist took one look at Bobby before sighing. 

“For fuck's sake, Bobby. We have rules about lovebites.”

Bobby just smiled. “Sorry. Couldn't help it.”

She just grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the vanity, forcing him down in front of it and reaching for makeup. “Erik is going to kill me if I don't get that covered up.”

“Nah, he'll kill me,” Bobby said, leaning back in the chair.

She just rolled her eyes. “She better have been worth it.”

Bobby looked into the mirror and locked eyes with John. “Yeah, I think she was.”

Kitty started laughing again, and John's gaze shifted to her. “Fuck off, Kitty.”

“What? I'm happy about it,” Kitty said as the hairstylist started to brush her hair. “Don't tell me to fuck off. It's a good thing.”

“Yeah,” John said, glancing over at Bobby again. “I hope it is.”

The door to the dressing room opened and James stuck his head in. “Hey, John? You want to do the song with me tonight?”

John didn't look away from Bobby. “Not tonight, James.”

“Alright, man,” James said, ducking out of the room and closing the door.

Bobby just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so obviously Say Something by A Great Big World belongs to them, not me.


	26. Chapter 26

Remy shifted around on the bed as he watched Marie rummage through her suitcase. “I got a phone call from Charles today.”

Marie froze for a moment before turning to look at him. “And?”

“And the girl has finally accepted the fact that he's not my kid,” Remy said, taking a deep breath before running his hands over his face. “She's dropped the lawsuit.”

Marie abandoned what she was doing and walked over to the bed, sitting down and reaching for Remy's hand. “That's a good thing, right?”

“This is going to sound ridiculously stupid, especially since we had the results of the blood test,” Remy said, letting out a small laugh. “But I was getting used to the idea of being a father.”

“I don't think that's ridiculous at all,” Marie said. 

Before she could continue, Remy spoke again. “Charles gave me more news.”

“What was it?”

“You know how the charges were thrown out? Well, now Doug is suing me for his medical expenses and he wants damages for his psychological injuries.”

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Marie exclaimed. “How much more fucking absurd can this get?”

“Fuck knows, but with Doug around, it probably will,” Remy said. “Charles said he was pretty confident he could get the case thrown out.”

“So this has been quite the interesting day for you,” Marie said. “Between Charles's news and the band having to be smuggled out of a radio station in catering carts, you've probably had all you can handle and you haven't even performed yet.”

“You know what would make it better?”

“What?”

Remy took a deep breath. “Marry me.” 

Marie started to talk but Remy put a hand up. “Hear me out before you say no.”

Marie nodded and Remy continued. “As far as I'm concerned, we already are married, Marie. We have been since that moment that I first saw you at the mystery gig. I've been in love with you for more than half my life, you make everything I do better, and there is nothing I enjoy more than waking up next to you in the morning. I just would like you legally required to be there. So I ask you again. Will you marry me?”

Marie saw the earnestness in Remy's eyes and took a deep breath. “You have asked me that question far too many times, you know that?”

“I can't help it,” Remy started, but this time it was Marie who shushed him.

“You're not giving me a chance to answer.” Remy nodded and Marie smiled at him. “I told you we needed a hundred dates. But I was wrong. All I've needed is the past few months. I've never been happier in my life, Remy. And the way you are with me when I'm having a bad day or Doug has done something stupid is such a contrast to the way any man has ever treated me. It just takes my breath away at how much you care for me. And so I've sort of run out of reasons to tell you no.”

Remy sat there for a moment. “So does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes,” Marie laughed as Remy just sat there. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Remy said, snatching Marie by the wrist and pulling her on top of him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marie said, bringing their lips together.

They kissed until they needed to breathe and Remy grinned as they broke apart. “God, I want to marry you this second.”

“You've got two more months of this tour,” Marie murmured. “That'll be enough time to get a wedding thrown together. I'll get Jubilee to help.”

“Right,” Remy said. “At the cathedral.”

Marie shook her head. “Oh fuck no. We're not getting married at the cathedral.”

“But you said your father...”

“I said that's what my father would want. But with everything he's done, fuck him,” Marie said, laughing. “God, that's so freeing to say.”

Remy smiled. “So, where are we getting married then?”

“I was thinking of the penthouse,” Marie said. “I never have gotten around to selling it. The main room is plenty big enough. There's no furniture in there anymore; all we'd need to do is bring in what we'd need for a ceremony and a reception. Nothing too fancy. Just simple and small.”

“You don't want fancy?”

“Not in the slightest. In fact, I don't even want you to wear a suit.”

Remy laughed. “Then what shall I be wearing? I would think a suit would be appropriate.”

“Those tight jeans I love, that red shirt I bought you for your birthday, and your leather jacket. I want to marry my rock star, not some stiff in a suit.”

Remy's smile turned into a grin. “You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?”

“I've been ready to say yes for a while. It's just been a bit since you've asked.”

Remy pulled Marie into another kiss. “May I make a request?”

“Of course.”

“I want you to wear that green dress you were wearing at the mystery gig the night we reunited because I want to marry my socialite.”

Marie grinned. “That is perfect. Fits in with the color scheme too.”

“And that is?”

“Red and green,” Marie said, laughing. “Our favorite colors.”

“The colors that are the reason we're friends,” Remy laughed. “Oh, I'd forgotten about that. We bonded as six-year-olds over our favorite colors of red and green. You're right, that's perfect for our wedding.”

“We shouldn't get married the second we get back to New York. We should give everyone a couple of weeks to get used to being home and give us a couple of weeks to make sure everything is in order.”

“And for me to get the ring.”

Marie looked at him in surprise. “You don't already have one?”

“Nope,” Remy said. “But I have a jeweler waiting for me to give them the word so they can make it, so I need to make that phone call.”

“Speaking of phone calls, you should call Erik.”

Remy groaned. “Erik's going to kill me.”

“Tell him we're doing it whether he agrees with it or not, so he might as well agree with it.”

“You're really serious about this?” Remy asked.

“I've never been more serious about anything in my life,” Marie said firmly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Remy said, kissing her again. “Okay, we're doing this.”

“We're doing this,” Marie concurred.

A knock came at the door and Darwin's voice drifted through from the hallway. “Leaving for the venue in ten, Remy.”

Marie stood up and went back over to her suitcase as Remy called back at Darwin to let him know that he'd heard him. “So, Remy, are we telling everyone?”

“Of course we are,” Remy said as he sat up. “But not until after I call my parents. They deserve to know first.”

“So we're telling everyone two days before the wedding then?”

“No,” Remy said. “I was going to call them tomorrow anyway, see if they wanted to meet us for the end of the tour. My father has always wanted to bring my mother to Paris and I thought I'd make it happen.”

Marie pulled the shirt she wanted to wear out of the suitcase and turned, smiling at Remy. “That's a lovely gesture.”

“I don't hate them. I just don't particularly get what I need from them,” Remy said, watching as Marie stripped off the shirt she was wearing. “I promise you that I am not going to let my relationship with our children end up the way my relationship with my parents is.”

Marie pulled the fresh shirt over her head and nodded. “I'm not going to let my relationship with our children be like my relationship with my parents either. We're going to be good parents, Remy. I just know it.”

Remy stood up and stretched. “Alright, enough of this or I'm going to want to walk out of the hotel and jump on top of the car and shout to the world that you're going to be my wife.”

Marie just laughed. “Okay, then you better come up with a damn good reason for why you're smiling like a lovestruck idiot.”

“Oh that's easy,” Remy said, walking over to her. “That's just the way I am around you.”

**********

“Bobby. Hey, Bobby.”

Bobby blinked several times before opening his eyes widely, surprised to find that John was still in his hotel room. “You're still here?”

“Of course I'm still here,” John said, bending down to kiss Bobby softly. “Just like I've been here every morning for the last three weeks.”

“Still not used to it,” Bobby murmured truthfully, glancing over at the clock. “Johnny, it's two-thirty in the morning.”

“I know,” John said. “But I was just on the phone with Erik and I think it's something we need to talk about.”

Bobby ran his hands over his face and groaned. “Whatever this is requires a conversation at two-thirty in the morning?”

“Yes,” John said seriously, turning and sitting up in bed. “Erik is in New York, you know. It's earlier there. He didn't think about the time difference when he called me, and now that I have his words circulating in my head, I think it's only right that we talk about them.”

Bobby sighed before pushing himself up, leaning against the wall behind the bed. “Alright, what is it?”

“Erik, as you know, has been telling us to figure this the fuck out for at least two years now,” John started before pausing. “He's heard from someone who is working this tour, so probably Hank or Darwin or both, that we've not been acting like the single rock stars you and I supposedly are.”

“Of course he fucking has,” Bobby muttered. “Fucking assholes.”

“They're just doing their jobs,” John said. “Look, basically, he wants to know how seriously we're taking this reconciliation.”

“What the fuck does Erik want to know that for?” Bobby exclaimed. “It's none of his fucking business!”

“Well, the way he phrased it, it sort of is,” John paused and took a deep breath. “Look, you were completely correct in your previous assumption that I was only going to therapy because I couldn't fuck someone and that I would probably consider myself done with therapy once I could. But about four months ago, my therapist, Alison Blaire is her name, she basically threw up her arms and said that she couldn't help me because I was unwilling to change. And that scared the fuck out of me, to be honest.”

“So you stopped going to therapy and have magically cured yourself? John, there's no way in the world I can believe a single word of this.”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “No, no, no. When Alison said that to me, I went home and I felt lost. Like, was I that horrible of a person that therapy couldn't even help me? So I picked up the phone to call you, and then I realized what a fucking terrible idea that was, so I dialed the next number I could think of. And that was Catherine's.”

Bobby looked over at him. “You called Catherine? John, you never call your sister.”

“I know. And before she could start in on some lecture about why I hardly ever call her, I just said it.”

When John didn't elaborate on that, Bobby elbowed him in the side. “Said what?”

“I told her what happened to me at the church,” John said, staring down at his hands. “Before I knew it my doorbell was ringing and I went to open it and it was Catherine. She'd listened to me talk the whole drive over to my place. She just walked into the house, hung up the phone, and pulled me into a hug. When we broke apart, I just slid down the wall in the entry and kept talking. Fuck, just to have someone that I know, someone that I love, someone from my childhood, listen to me talk about all of that shit and then look me in the eyes and tell me they loved me anyway, it struck a nerve and I started crying. And I cried harder than I've cried in my entire life.”

John sucked in another deep breath. “I told her that I was in love with a man and that I didn't know what to do about it. That I treat him motherfucking appallingly and he's ready to walk and I don't know if I'll survive that.”

“And her response?”

“It's Catherine,” John said as his eyes filled with tears. “She didn't care. She wouldn't have cared if I'd told her about it before either. And I knew that, Bobby, I _knew_ it and I didn't do it. And when I got to this terror-inducing moment that I'd dreaded for years, she just wrapped her arm around my shoulders and asked me to tell her about him. So I told her all about you. I wasn't going to say that it was you but she figured it out.”

Bobby reached out and took one of John's hands in his, making John look up at him. “I'm proud of you. And I've told you for years that Catherine would react like that.”

“I know, Bobby, I know. She said so much stuff that made sense, but that was so scary. I think we talked for like five hours. When I told her about therapy and what Alison said, she slapped my shoulder and told me what I needed to hear.”

“Which was?”

“That it was time to leave this shell of a man that I've been for the past god knows how long behind and deal with this shit. And so the next morning I called Alison's office and made an appointment at the earliest possible available time, and I walked into her office that day and told her everything that Catherine and I had talked about, and that it was about time for me to make a change. And from that moment on, god Bobby, it's been hard work but it's working. I'm even having phone call sessions with her while we're here on tour.”

Bobby squeezed John's hand. “That's good, John. It really is. But I don't know where you're going with telling me all of this.”

“Erik wanted to know if we're close to making this official. No, hmm, I guess official is the wrong word. The right word would be public.”

“And you immediately told him that there's no way in fucking hell that's something you'd agree to, so why are we having to talk about this at two-thirty in the morning?”

“I didn't tell him that,” John said simply. “I told him that at this exact moment I'm not ready for that, but if things keep going down the path they're on, I wouldn't be fundamentally opposed to that.”

Bobby blinked rapidly and then reached up and slapped himself. “Sorry, just had to make sure I wasn't dreaming.”

“I can totally understand why you would think that you were,” John said. “We've spent so much time having sex these last few weeks that we haven't done the talking that we should have.”

Bobby ran his hands over his face again. “You're not fundamentally opposed to exposing our relationship to the world.”

“I'm not ready for it at this exact moment, but in the future, no I'm not.”

“You have to understand how that's difficult for me to believe, right?”

“I do understand,” John said, shifting around so he was sitting closer to Bobby. “I'm the one who doesn't want anyone to know what goes on between us. But a big part of being in therapy was to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, right? And every time we get around to the subject of the future, there's only one thing that goes through my mind and that's you. I know this doesn't make everything better and I don't expect it to. I just thought maybe it would be a step in the right direction. And I wanted to say all of this to you that night you gave me another chance but you wanted to have sex and I can't deny that it was something I wanted too.”

Bobby took a deep breath and looked over at John. “You've been wanting to say this to me ever since that night?”

“I've wanted to say it to you since the beginning of the tour, to be honest, but it didn't seem like a good idea after I fucked up in Dublin and went back to my old habits. God, Alison was not happy with me for that but she said that steps backward are to be expected. And the stuff with Madrox and the song is just inexcusable. But after you sang that song about giving up on me, I knew I had to cut the bullshit and tell you the truth. I've sort of been looking for the right opportunity ever since.”

Bobby just shook his head. “Are you one hundred percent sure that I'm not dreaming right now?”

John leaned over and nipped at Bobby's neck, making him yelp. “One thousand percent.”

Bobby ran a hand through his hair before sighing. “This doesn't make everything better.”

“I know that,” John said. “But I needed you to know that I am serious when I say I am working on things and that I'm going to do what is right by you. I know I have never done that and I'm not saying it's going to happen without steps back, but I am determined. I can't lose you, Bobby. I love you too much.”

Bobby felt a lump form in his throat. “Do you remember how I told you that I didn't think I'd ever be able to believe you when you said that you loved me?”

“I'll never forget that as long as I live,” John said. “That's part of my punishment for being so awful to you.”

Bobby looked over at him and smiled. “I was wrong.”

“Huh?”

“You just said you loved me,” Bobby said simply. “And I believed it.”

John stared at him for a moment before breaking into a huge grin. “Really?”

“Really,” Bobby said, leaning in and kissing him hard. “But everything is still not better.”

“I know that,” John said. “I would be foolish to think that, and I'm done being foolish when it comes to you.”

“I'm not sure I can believe that.”

“I know that too. But I am determined to make things right.”

Bobby slumped over so his head was resting on John's shoulder. “Johnny?”

“What?”

“All that stuff you used to say to me while we were in bed together,” Bobby started. “About our life together. Did you mean any of that?”

John leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Bobby's head. “I meant all of it. I was just too much of a chickenshit douchebag to do anything about it.”

“But now you are.”

“But now I am,” John said. “And if I ever put a foot out of line again, call me on it. You used to let me get away with so much shit and I don't want that to happen again.”

“Okay,” Bobby said softly. “I can do that. As long as you never kiss another woman in front of me ever again.”

John swallowed hard but nodded. “I promise.”

They sat there for a few moments before Bobby let a soft sigh escape his lips. “You know how much I hate being woken up in the middle of the night for inane conversations, right?”

“I'm sorry, Bobby, but I just thought...”

“This was worth waking up for.”

John smiled. “Well, I'll try to say these things at a more decent hour next time.”

“Please do,” Bobby said. “But if they need to come out at two-thirty in the morning, then that's okay. Just so long as you say them.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Let's get some sleep,” Bobby said, yawning. “We've got a morning radio show to do tomorrow, or well, later today. Hank will kill us if we look like we've been up all night.”

“He'll think we fucked all night and for that Hank can fuck off.”

“Obviously, but we still need to get some sleep. I don't want to deal with Erik yelling at us for something that we're not even doing.”

“Agreed.”


	27. Chapter 27

Marie laughed as her phone rang again, seeing her father's name appear on the screen. “He is so angry right now.”

“You are going to have to answer that at some point, you know,” Remy murmured, sliding closer to her and kissing her shoulder. “Future Mrs. LeBeau.”

“I like the sound of that name,” Marie said, tossing her phone onto the bedside table before turning to face Remy and holding up her left hand. “So Mr. LeBeau, while this pink plastic ring with a gigantic fake diamond that you somehow managed to find at some point in the past month is lovely, Sebastian wants to know when I am going to have something more permanent. He's coordinating with Emma on how to handle this.”

“You mean you don't like it?” Remy said teasingly. “In all seriousness, the jeweler is my first stop as soon as we get back to the States. The ring is complete and I was sent photos of it today.”

“I want to see!”

“Absolutely not,” Remy said, kissing Marie again. “And I've got to get up now or I will run out of time to do all of the things I am required to do today.”

“Oh alright.” Marie stretched as Remy tore himself away from her and got out of bed, reaching for his pants. “I've got to find something to do with myself today, I guess.”

“You are more than welcome to accompany us to the television station. After that engagement announcement yesterday, there's no more hiding you.”

“Then I will do so,” Marie said, sitting up and wrapping the bedsheet around herself. “If he ever stops calling, I need to call Jubilee and talk to her about wedding details.”

Remy walked around the bed and bent down as her phone started ringing again, giving Marie another kiss. “Answer your phone. Talk to him.”

“He's going to be so disappointed.”

“If he loves you, then all he'll care about is that you are happy,” Remy said. “And if he doesn't, then I say you go through with your earlier plan and we cut him out of our lives for good.”

“I think I'm about at that point anyway, whether he's happy for me or not,” Marie murmured as Remy got dressed. “And I know he's not happy with me.”

“Well, if you don't cut him out of your life, then you better prepare for him never approving of a thing you do for the rest of it,” Remy said as he walked out of the room. “Because I am his worst nightmare when it comes to you and now you're going to be legally mine.”

Just hearing that put a smile on Marie's face as she laid back down on the bed and reached for her phone.

**********

“Come on, John! We wrote that song together and the fans love it!”

John reached up and massaged his temples. “I wrote that song, James. You helped with about ten bars of the music. You are not recording that song.”

“And I suppose I'm going to be told I have to let The Mutants record it then? That's fucking bullshit, man!” James countered back.

“The band is not recording that song,” John said, his headache building with every second of this conversation. “No one is ever recording that song. I'm not even going to publish the song just to ensure that no one ever records it.”

“That song is great! You can't just bury it forever.”

“I can and I will,” John said, looking up at him. “And that's the end of this discussion.”

“You're fucking insane. I regret the day I ever helped you with that song,” James said.

“Not as much as I do, trust me,” John said, sighing with relief when James stalked away. 

“Johnny.” John glanced behind him at where Bobby was standing. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

Bobby walked over to the speaker John was sitting on and sat down next to him. “You put a lot of work into that song.”

“And I never want to hear James sing it again,” John said seriously. “I never want to hear anyone sing that song again. That whole song is such a mistake.”

“It's not a mistake,” Bobby started but John shook his head.

“It hurt you when that was not its intent. It was a mistake.”

“I still don't know what it says past Providence, to be perfectly honest,” Bobby said. “Maybe someday you can play it for me.”

“I don't think that's a very good idea.”

“Well, I do,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “I've been thinking about what we talked about the other night.”

John swallowed hard. “And?”

“I like the thought, don't get me wrong, but if this is still supposed to be a secret then I don't think it's a very good idea for us to be living together.”

“I understand. I'm just scared of what's going to happen when we get home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't trust myself when I'm alone,” John said softly. “I don't trust myself not to go do something stupid.”

“You promised,” Bobby started and John nodded.

“I know what I promised and I meant it. But get half a bottle of whiskey in me and I just...I don't trust myself.”

“And so you think if we were together all the time you would be able to?”

“I think I'd have a much better chance of success. These two months have been great, Drake. I don't want to fuck that up.”

Bobby looked around the stage for a moment before reaching out and tangling his fingers with John. “You haven't called me Drake in forever.”

“Because I know you hate it. Didn't mean to say it right then either. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” Bobby said. “You're the only one who can get away with calling me Drake. I know you hardly do it but I like it when you call me that.”

John looked over at him. “Really?”

“I guess I've always interpreted it as a term of endearment,” Bobby said softly. “You can't call me anything else so you call me Drake.”

John smiled. “I never realized you picked up on that because that's exactly what it is.”

“I'm more perceptive than you think.”

“So am I,” John said, squeezing Bobby's fingers. “I know who your muse is.”

“You do?”

“I'm not an idiot, Bobby. It wasn't that hard to figure out.”

“Some of those songs...I just...”

“You don't need to explain. You do that through your lyrics. I heard every word of it, said and unsaid. And I was a fucking asshole anyway.”

“You're not an asshole.”

“I really am.”

Bobby let go of John's hand as he heard footsteps coming towards them, looking up to see Darwin walking onto the stage. “Hey Darwin.”

“Erik's furious with you fucking morons,” Darwin said, sighing heavily.

“What did we do?” John asked.

“Have you conveniently forgotten that you kissed Bobby on stage again last night?”

John shrugged. “So? It wasn't a big deal before.”

“Well, it's a big deal now.” Darwin turned the iPad in his hands around and handed it to Bobby. “This is one of the many articles going around about it. They're starting to pick up on a pattern.”

Bobby looked down at the article on the screen and sighed. “We don't have a pattern.”

“Let me see,” John said and Bobby handed the iPad over. 

“You don't have a pattern? Fucking hell, Bobby, don't lie to me,” Darwin said. “You two are always talking about each other in interviews, the tabloids always catch you two doing stupid shit together when we're in New York, it's well known that you are the reason John's in the band in the first place, and now you've fucking kissed on stage twice. You have a pattern and people are starting to pick up on it.”

“I'm with Bobby. That's not a pattern.” 

Darwin snatched the iPad back. “Like I said, fucking morons. You think that Erik and Emma aren't able to see this better than you two do? Look, I'm not going to lie, but Erik's thinking of flying in for this.”

“For what?” John exclaimed. “We didn't fucking do anything!”

“The fuck you didn't,” Darwin said, turning and walking away. “Just be prepared to be asked about it in this interview! And be motherfucking careful about how you answer it!”

“Fuck off!” John yelled after him, but Bobby just shook his head.

“He's right.”

“What?” John asked, looking over at him. “What the fuck is he right about?”

“Whether we have a pattern or not, people are going to start looking for things now. We have to be extra careful.”

John sighed heavily. “I know. I just...”

“You don't want this to be happening. I get it.”

“It's not that. It's that I just...I don't know how to word it.”

Bobby reached over and tangled their fingers together again. “Try.”

“I guess I feel like I'm letting you down.”

“You're not letting me down, Johnny,” Bobby said. “I don't want this to be happening either.”

John looked over at him. “You don't?”

“I would prefer some control of the narrative if it becomes public at some point,” Bobby said, letting out a hollow laugh. “I mean, I haven't even told my parents about this yet. My mother still thinks I'm looking for a girl to settle down with.”

“Not to change the subject,” John said. “But how long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“You know what,” John said. “The future. How long have you known?”

Bobby let go of John's fingers and ran his hands over his face. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Bobby! John!” came Hank's voice. “Interview!”

Bobby stood up and John did the same. They started walking towards the dressing room but Bobby stopped them at the edge of the stage. 

“Since Providence,” Bobby said softly. “I've known since Providence.”

John's eyes widened and Bobby gave him a small smile. “Now do you understand how broken I am?”

John didn't trust his voice so he just nodded. Bobby started to walk away and John stood there for a few moments before heading after him. “Drake.”

“We can't talk about this right now,” Bobby said without turning around. “We've got to do this interview.”

“I want to talk about it at some point though,” John said as he caught up to him. “Promise me we can talk about it at some point.”

“I promise.”

“I'm a motherfucking douchebag, by the way.”

“No, you're not,” Bobby said as they reached the dressing room door. “And this ends now before someone figures it out.”

“Got it,” John said as Bobby opened the door. “I promise.”

“You better.”

**********

“I never should have invited them,” Remy said, pacing back and forth. “I don't know what I was thinking.”

“You were doing something nice for your parents,” Marie said from where she was sitting on the bed. “And you're going to have to go out there and talk to them at some point.”

“I can't,” Remy said. “You know why I can't.”

“Remy, Jean-Luc was thrilled to hear the news of our engagement.”

“No, he wasn't.”

“What do you mean he wasn't?”

Remy stopped pacing and ran his hands through his hair. “He likes you, Marie. Really he does. But he's not entirely thrilled by our relationship. He thinks that you've gotten me into a ton of trouble and that you're not worth it. Mama disagrees with him and said she'd work on him, but I know my father. He's not happy and he's not going to be. Yet another thing I've done to disappoint him.”

Marie stared at him for a moment. “Were you planning on ever telling me this?”

“I've been meaning to for weeks now,” Remy admitted. “I just never found a good time.”

“So your idea of a good time is when they've arrived at the hotel?” Marie just shook her head. “Honestly, Remy, what the fuck are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking that I can't face him, that's what I'm thinking,” Remy said, running his hands over his face. “You're going to make me face them, aren't you?”

“Of course I am,” Marie said. “And if Jean-Luc is an asshole then just ignore him.”

“You know I can't do that,” Remy said. “And you know why I can't do that.”

Marie stood up and walked over to him. “Remy, your mother is not going to hate you if you find yourself estranged from your father.”

“She's not going to hate me, but she's going to refuse to speak to me until I speak to my father.”

“You don't know that.”

“I've tried this before,” Remy admitted. “And I missed her so much that I went and apologized to him and have been suffering from his verbal abuse ever since.”

Marie wrapped her arms around Remy's waist. “Well, maybe things will be different now.”

Remy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It's my father, Marie. He's never going to change.”

“I'm not talking about Jean-Luc,” Marie said. “I'm talking about Annabella.”

“My mother is not going to change either,” Remy murmured. 

“Give me time to work on her,” Marie said. “I know she's thrilled for us.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she called me and told me so.”

Remy pulled back. “She called you?”

“Erik apparently gave her my number,” Marie said. “She was thrilled, Remy. I've never heard Annabella so excited. She said that she always knew I would end up her daughter-in-law.”

Remy let out a small laugh. “Of course she did. She was the only one I talked to about you when we were teenagers.”

“Which is why she sent me to the club that night,” Marie said, smiling. “She told me that too.”

Remy swallowed hard. “You really think I'm not going to lose my mother?”

“I think you never have,” Marie said, reaching for Remy's hand. “Now can we please go out into the hallway and talk to them? They've been here for nearly half an hour.”

Remy leaned in and kissed Marie softly. “I suppose so.”

Marie squeezed Remy's hand and pulled him over to the door. “Just remember,” she said, stopping in front of it. “Nothing Jean-Luc says is going to change anything. We're getting married when we get back to New York whether he likes it or not.”

Remy nodded, a smile on his face. “Alright, future Mrs. LeBeau.”

“I cannot wait for the day when the future is dropped from that phrase,” Marie said, grinning as she reached for the doorknob. “Everything's going to be fine.”

“I'm not sure about that,” Remy said as they walked out the door.

They found Jean-Luc and Annabella standing in the hallway talking to Kitty, and Annabella immediately walked over to them and wrapped Remy up in a hug. “Oh, darling, I'm so happy to see you.”

“You are?” Remy said quietly.

“Always,” Annabella said, a smile on her face. “Come and say hello to your father.”

Remy took a deep breath and followed Annabella, his hand still holding onto Marie's. “Hello, Dad.”

Jean-Luc turned to them with a smile on his face. “Remy. Marie.”

Remy took a deep breath when Jean-Luc held out his hand to him and reached out to shake it. “It's good to see you, Dad.”

Jean-Luc grasped Remy's hand and pulled him into a hug, surprising Remy. “It's wonderful to see you. Thank you for this trip. I have always wanted to bring your mother to Paris.”

Remy nodded when they pulled back from the embrace. “I know.”

“Marie,” Jean-Luc said, turning to her and pulling her into a hug as well. “I am looking forward to the wedding. Though probably not as much as the two of you.”

Marie laughed. “I can't imagine anyone is looking forward to it as much as we are.”

“I'll leave you all alone,” Kitty said, shaking her head when Remy gave her a pleading look. “I've got some stuff to do before the concert anyway.”

Remy swallowed hard as Kitty walked away, and Jean-Luc smiled. “You're finally settling down, Remy. Have to say, I was starting to wonder if that was ever going to happen.”

“He just needed the right woman to come back into his life,” Annabella said, laughing. “And the right woman has always been Marie.”

Remy blushed, and Marie just reached out and tangled their fingers together again. “He's always been the right man for me too, even though I tried to fight it for a long time.”

“And why was that?” Jean-Luc asked. “Because you've gotten yourselves in quite the mess.”

“Jean-Luc,” Annabella admonished, but Marie just shook her head. 

“It's fine, Annabella,” she said. “I tried to do what my father wanted me to do. I just eventually came to the realization that he doesn't get to control my life and I should do what I wanted.”

“I see,” Jean-Luc said before he was interrupted by Hank's voice echoing down the hallway. 

“Remy! We're leaving for the radio station in five.”

“Radio station?” Remy asked.

“You've got an interview and a live performance to do, then you're going straight to the venue,” Hank said as he appeared. “And you already knew that.”

Remy turned to Marie. “I'm sorry about this.”

“It's fine,” Marie said softly, giving him a kiss. “I'll see you at the venue.”

Remy walked away after a brief goodbye to his parents, and Annabella turned to Marie. “Shall we find somewhere to get some lunch and then we can discuss wedding plans?”

“I think that's a great idea, Annabella. Let me go get my stuff.”


	28. Chapter 28

Marie was standing at the side of the stage watching sound check when she felt someone walk up to her side. She turned to look and found Jean-Luc standing there, smiling at him when he turned to look at her.

“Marie, may I have a word?”

“Of course.”

“Annabella has brought it to my attention that I'm not exactly being the nicest,” Jean-Luc said, staring out at the stage. “To you, to Remy. I just hope you understand my trepidation.”

“I don't actually,” Marie said honestly. “I'd think you'd be thrilled Remy is finally settling down. He said you don't really approve of his lifestyle.”

“That is correct, I don't.”

“Then I really don't understand.”

“Your family is very interesting,” Jean-Luc began. “Your father is not exactly the type of person that I ever wanted my son around. Your mother either. Every time we had them over for whatever reason, they were quite the people to handle.”

Marie let out a small laugh. “You can say it, Jean-Luc. My parents are assholes.”

Jean-Luc gave her a smile. “Alright then, yes, they're assholes. So you might now understand my fear of my son being around someone who was raised by them. I didn't know you very well back then, Marie, and I still don't. Annabella has always told me I'm being ridiculous, but then all of this mess with this ex of yours happened, and it just reminded me so much of the mess of your parents, and I...I'm trepidatious.”

Marie sighed heavily. “I'm not my parents, Jean-Luc. In fact, I'm trying very hard to have nothing to do with them. I already don't speak to my mother and I want my father out of my life too. To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised my brothers and I turned out as normal as we did. I never want to go through all the bullshit that they did or have my children go through the bullshit that we did. I've promised Remy that I'll never let that happen.”

“Is your family going to be at the wedding?”

“My brothers will be. My mother definitely will not. I haven't yet decided whether or not I want my father there. I sure as hell haven't told him where we're having it or what day it is.”

“And your ex?”

“Is still suing me because I refuse to marry him,” Marie said. “But my lawyers are confident that once it finally gets in front of a judge it will very quickly be dismissed. He has no case, really. I have one though, which is why I counter sued.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” Marie said. “I've had enough of this fucking bullshit. Doug needs to accept that he can't win. And after I marry Remy, he really won't be able to.”

“Is that the reason you agreed to this?”

Marie shook her head vigorously. “No. I accepted Remy's proposal because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with trying to get Doug out of our lives. That's just a wonderful side benefit.”

“You broke his heart many times. He thinks that only Annabella noticed, but he's quite wrong about that. I noticed too.”

“I know I did,” Marie said. “And I know I can never make up for the fact that it happened. We both would have spent the last decade much happier if I hadn't. But I can't change the past now, just look forward to the future.”

“Do you plan on starting a career or are you just going to follow Remy all over the place?”

“I'm not sure. I mean, I have my degree. I suppose I could actually use it,” Marie said, looking over at him. “Jean-Luc, are you trying to make sure I'm a suitable enough candidate to marry your son?”

Jean-Luc sighed. “I suppose I just don't want you living off his money.”

“I have plenty of my own money, trust me,” Marie said. “I haven't even told Remy how much.”

“Would you tell me?”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “Just know that it's a lot more than Remy has.”

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that. Your father is Owen D'Ancanto, after all.”

“Believe me, my father is worried about Remy living off my money. He refuses to admit that he's actually successful at something.”

Jean-Luc glanced over at her. “He doesn't like him, does he?”

“Oh no, Remy is still the boy who ruined my designer clothes with paint when we were children and has now grown up into the man who has corrupted his daughter and kept her from her rightful destiny as Douglas Ramsey's wife,” Marie said, shaking her head. “Yet another reason why I want to cut all ties with him.”

“So you don't think he'll ever approve?”

“No, I don't,” Marie said, thinking about it for a moment. “And I'm not sure Remy thinks you'll ever approve either.”

Jean-Luc ran his hands over his face. “I can understand why he thinks that. I never have known how to deal with him. Remy has a very different personality than mine.”

“You could try just accepting who he is.”

“I have done that,” Jean-Luc said. “He's just turned out so differently than what I imagined him to be when he was a child.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

“I don't think he'll believe me.”

“You'd be surprised,” Marie said, looking up when she heard footsteps coming towards them. “Looks like sound check is done.”

“Thank you for the talk, Marie.”

“Of course, Jean-Luc,” Marie said as Remy approached them, a cautious look on his face. “Hello, darling. That sounded great.”

“Hopefully it does tonight too,” Remy said, turning to Jean-Luc. “Dad.”

“She's right, you know,” Jean-Luc said, turning to walk away. “That sounded fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Remy called out before turning back to Marie. “What was that all about?”

“Jean-Luc just had some lingering questions and I answered them for him,” Marie said, tangling their fingers together. “It was fine.”

“Nothing with him is ever fine.”

“You'd be surprised then,” Marie said, smiling at him. “So where now?”

“Back to the dressing room. James's showing up for soundcheck in a few minutes and I don't want to face him.”

“What did James do to you?”

“It's not what he did to me.”

“John then?”

“That's always going to be about John,” Remy said, walking them away from the stage. 

“Well, at least this is the last couple of nights,” Marie said. “Because I am ready to have him out of our lives. He's made both Bobby and John miserable.”

“Well, hopefully, that will end when we get home,” Remy said. “Everyone is going to have something to be happy about then. Definitely us.”

Marie grinned. “Especially us.”

**********

Bobby was standing at the table full of alcohol looking for the bottle of whiskey when Marie walked up on his left. “Hey, Marie.”

“Bobby,” Marie said, searching the table with her eyes. “You look miserable.”

Bobby sighed heavily. “I know it's part of the deal, but it still hurts.”

Marie glanced behind her to see John sitting there with two women in his lap, laughing at something one of them said as he caressed the other's thigh. “John, you fucking moron.”

“No, he's not,” Bobby said seriously. “We got lectured by Erik about how we need to keep up the act and that's what he's doing. It's just really hard to watch.”

“You think he's going to invite them back to the hotel, don't you?” Marie asked, looking up when Darwin called out Bobby's name. 

Bobby looked up as well. “Darwin, you beauty. I was wondering where that was.”

Darwin handed the bottle of whiskey to Bobby and smiled. “Sorry, Jean-Luc polished off the bottle we had in here during the concert.”

Marie's eyes widened. “Jean-Luc did?”

“Yep. And then he and Annabella went straight back to the hotel afterward. She did not look happy.” Darwin looked towards the door when he heard Hank call out his name. “Alright, guys, try not to drink that entire bottle in the next ten minutes, okay?”

“We won't,” Bobby called out, tearing the top off the bottle and reaching for Marie's glass. “Anyway, you can't tell me that what Remy's doing doesn't bother you.”

Marie sighed and looked over to where Remy was conversing with three beautiful women. “It does and it doesn't. It's annoying as fuck to watch, but I trust him. He's not going to do something stupid.”

“I wish I could trust him,” Bobby said, reaching for his glass and quickly pouring himself a drink. “I really, really do.”

“I understand why you can't,” Marie said, sipping at her drink. “But I also don't.”

“And why is that?” Bobby asked, putting the bottle back down on the table and picking up his glass.

“Ever since you gave him another chance, he hasn't slipped up once,” Marie said quietly. “And he's had plenty of opportunities to. I mean, I haven't even seen him kiss one of these girls in weeks.”

“I made him promise that I would never have to see him kiss another woman again,” Bobby said, taking a large sip of his whiskey. “I honestly can't believe that he's held to that.”

“Shouldn't that show you that he's serious?”

“I know that he's serious,” Bobby said. “Some of the stuff he's said to me on this tour, I never thought I would ever hear these things, you know? But now I'm terrified of going home.”

“Why?”

“It's something he said to me a few weeks ago. He doesn't trust himself once we're home. Here with me all the time is one thing; John by himself is something entirely different.”

“You two weren't planning on spending every minute with each other?”

“We can't do that and you know it,” Bobby said. “Someone will pick up on it. They're already starting to because he's decided he can't keep his fucking hands off me on stage.”

“All these articles are making him freak out?”

“No, all these articles are making me freak out,” Bobby murmured before taking another sip. “He is surprisingly calm about them.”

Marie gave Bobby a look. “You expect me to believe that?”

Bobby quickly knocked back the rest of his drink and reached for the bottle. “He had a conversation with Erik.”

“About what?”

“Erik wanted to know if we were close to making this public,” Bobby said quietly, pouring himself another before knocking it straight back. “And he told him that he's not fundamentally opposed to the idea, he's just not ready for it.”

Marie nearly dropped her glass. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nope,” Bobby said, shaking his head as he poured himself another. “But he's keeping up the habit of wanting to act like we don't have a relationship around you guys. I mean, he's better about it; he doesn't just scream out denials every time someone references it anymore, which is an improvement. But I just don't know what to make of this. He's been scared for so long and suddenly he's not.”

“But you are,” Marie observed. 

“Fucking terrified,” Bobby admitted. “It's one thing for all of you to know. It's another thing entirely to have the entire fucking world know. I'm not sure I'm ready for that, and I sure as fuck never thought that he'd be ready for it before me.”

“Any idea where this is coming from? On both your accounts.”

“He's been in therapy for a while and it's really been getting through to him from what I can tell. Maybe that's why. As for me, I just know that it's going to be met with a lot of disapproval from important people in my life and I can't really add in disapproval from the entire world on top of that. I mean, my parents don't even know about us. I've had to lie to them about the articles.”

Marie polished off her drink and reached for the bottle. “And you don't think it's important to tell them?”

“I've wanted to tell them for years, especially every time my mother wants me to find a pretty girl and settle down,” Bobby said, sighing. “They're very religious, my parents. I know that they're not going to be happy. John's parents are really religious too and they aren't going to be happy either. And it's like, am I willing to make that sacrifice? Because I know they're not going to want anything to do with me.”

“You don't know that, Bobby,” Marie said. 

“I do,” Bobby said, his gaze dropping down to his glass. “There was a distant cousin that married another man and my mother about lost her mind over it. She went to the church three times a day for six months to pray for his soul.”

Marie reached out and put a hand on Bobby's arm, making him look up at her. “Do you think he's worth it? Because if he is, then whatever they think shouldn't matter.”

“He's worth the universe,” Bobby said seriously. “But my parents and brother are all the family I've got.”

“You've got more family than them,” Marie said. “We're your family too. It may not be blood family, but it doesn't have to be.”

“I know, I know,” Bobby said, sighing. “This is coming out all wrong. Basically, if we're going to do this, we have to make the decision together and we should start with our parents. And that's going to be a fucking nightmare and I don't want to add the entire world on top of that. Maybe after a while, but not immediately.”

“Then start with your parents,” Marie said. “And perhaps do it when we get back to New York because if they're sniffing around like those articles are proof of, you know it's just a matter of time.”

“I know,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “Alright, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's talk about you and Remy.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“Didn't you see the news?”

Marie groaned and reached for her phone. “What fucking idiocy has Doug come up with this time?”

“It's not Doug,” Bobby said. “It's Remy's ex this time.”

Marie froze. “Remy's ex?”

“Yeah, Belladonna,” Bobby said. “You know about Belladonna, right?”

“No,” Marie said. “I don't.”

“Oh,” Bobby said, sighing. “It doesn't really surprise me that Remy doesn't talk about her. They dated while we were at Columbia and she was still around when we got the record deal. She took his signing bonus and left him. Not going to lie to you, he was pretty devastated.”

Marie stood there for a moment before sighing heavily. “Is this why Jean-Luc doesn't like me?”

“Probably. Jean-Luc loved Belladonna.”

Marie knocked back the rest of her drink and reached for the bottle. “So what has this Belladonna done then?”

“She's just gone public about Remy's life before the band was famous,” Bobby said, glancing over at where John was caressing one of the women's backs. “Remind me to stop looking over at him.”

“Stop looking over at him and tell me what I need to know,” Marie said. “Come on, I don't want to learn this shit by reading it in some tabloid.”

Bobby reached for the bottle. “Come on, let's not talk about this in here.”

Marie nodded and followed Bobby out of the dressing room and to the stage, sitting down next to him on a speaker. “So what has Remy not told me?”

“Keep in mind that I don't know all the details, alright? If you want those, you're going to have to ask him,” Bobby said. “They were already dating by the time I asked Remy to sing with us. She used to come sit at our rehearsal space and tell us we sounded great. They had a bunch of classes together, and as Remy started to attend less and less of them, she'd bring him notes and help him study for exams, that kind of stuff.”

“You're not telling me anything that should end up in a tabloid,” Marie said. “So get to that.”

“I really shouldn't be the one telling you this.”

“Well, too bad because you are,” Marie said, knocking back her drink. “Tell me.”

“Remy asked her to marry him,” Bobby said after a moment. “And she said yes. But then five months later, she took the money and was gone. So this article is basically about how Remy left her at the altar, which I can promise you is not the case.”

Marie reached for the bottle and poured herself another drink, quickly knocking it back and pouring another. “He was engaged.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to there never being anyone serious? Because I have heard that on numerous occasions.”

“That was since we got the record deal,” Bobby said, taking a large sip of his drink. “He was pretty miserable for a long time until you came back into his life. Totally over her, don't get me wrong, but miserable.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments before Bobby looked over at her. “Don't be angry with him.”

“Why the fuck not?” Marie exclaimed. “We're supposed to tell each other everything and this is something massive. I've told him every fucking thing there is about my time with Doug.”

“I think that's why he hasn't told you, or at least that's my guess,” Bobby said. “You were miserable and he was happy and he hates the fact that he was happy while you were miserable. Don't think that he didn't want you all along because I can guarantee you he did. He used to bring up his magical Marie in front of Belladonna all the time and she hated it.”

Marie sighed heavily. “Do you think he'll bring it up with me now?”

“Probably not,” Bobby said. “So I suggest you bring it up with him.”

“Oh, that will definitely be happening,” Marie said, looking out at the empty stadium. “You should go convince him to go back to the hotel.”

“And leave you here now? No way.”

“You should be with him, not me.”

“And he should be with me and not the girls but we don't get much say in that,” Bobby said, polishing off his drink. “Marie?”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me dump my conscience on you,” Bobby said. “I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't talk to you about him.”

Marie smiled and reached out, squeezing Bobby's hand. “You can talk to me about anything. I mean that.”

“Thanks,” Bobby said, looking up when he heard footsteps and smiling when John came into view. “Hey.”

“Drake, Marie,” John said, leaning up against the speaker next to the one they were sitting on. “I wondered where you went and Hank said out here.”

“Yeah, we were just talking about Belladonna,” Bobby said. “The idiot hasn't told Marie about her.”

“This is about the article, right?” John asked, continuing when Bobby nodded. “I'm not sure he even knows about it yet. He sure as fuck hasn't talked to Erik today. He's been too busy trying to get his father to give him the time of day.”

“Jean-Luc's an asshole,” Bobby said. “Remy should know better than waste time on him.”

“That's what I told him,” John said, shaking his head. “So he never told you about Belladonna, huh?”

“Nope,” Marie said, taking a sip of her drink. “To say I'm furious would be an understatement.”

“Don't go too hard on him,” John said. “It wasn't the most amicable of breakups.”

“Neither was mine with Doug and I still told him everything about that,” Marie said bitterly as she stood up. “I think I'm going to go back to the hotel. You two should come with me.”

Bobby went to protest but John just gave them a smile. “I think that sounds like a great idea. Those girls were giving me a headache anyway. Plus I would have much rather been here with you.”

Marie smiled at him and bent to kiss his cheek as she walked past. “Proud of you, John.”

“For what?”

“Acting like a fucking adult,” Marie said, walking away. “I'll go find Hank so he can arrange a ride for us.”

John sat down next to Bobby and reached over, tangling their fingers together. “How mad do you think she is?”

“Oh, she's furious,” Bobby said. “But I don't want to talk about her and Remy.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

“I don't want to talk,” Bobby said, giving John a look that told John exactly what Bobby wanted to do.

“We're on the stage, Bobby.”

“And everyone else is in the dressing room,” Bobby said, polishing off his drink. “Once. Then we go back to the hotel and have a lot more fun.”

“This is not a good idea,” John said as he leaned in. 

“I don't care,” Bobby murmured right before their lips met. 

John grinned into the kiss before pulling back. “We really shouldn't have done that.”

“Why the fuck not? They're figuring it out anyway.”

“You know why,” John said, standing up and reaching for Bobby's hand. “Come on, back to the hotel, Drake, and I'll show you how much I enjoyed that.”


	29. Chapter 29

Marie was standing at the side of the stage with Annabella and Jean-Luc, watching as the band played. The Parisian crowd was singing the words to every song and Marie could tell that Remy was having the time of his life out there. She smiled and sipped at her glass of whiskey, turning to look at Annabella when she said her name. “They're amazing, aren't they?”

“Yes, they are,” Annabella said. “I haven't really gotten to watch them on stage that much, to be honest. Jean-Luc and I really only see them play when they're in New York and even then we don't go too often.”

“More whiskey, Marie?”

Marie turned to see Darwin standing behind her, bottle in hand. “Of course.”

“You drink a lot.”

Marie turned towards Jean-Luc and sighed. “Still vetting me, Jean-Luc?”

“Just making an observation.”

“Ignore him, dear,” Annabella said. “He doesn't know what he's saying.”

“Yes, Annabella, I do. I'm just observing that our future daughter-in-law seems to be an alcoholic.”

“Jean-Luc!” Annabella admonished, but Marie just shook her head. 

“It's alright, Annabella. Besides, he's right.” They both looked at her and Marie just shrugged. “Believe me, I drink far less now than I used to. I used to be drunk all day. It was how I coped with my life. I don't have to do that anymore. But I still love whiskey.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Annabella wrapped an arm around Marie's shoulders. “Have you ever sought treatment?”

“I don't think I need treatment, though I do talk about it with my therapist.”

“Can you make me a promise then? If it ever gets that bad again, you will seek treatment?”

Marie looked over at Annabella and saw the genuine concern in her eyes. “I promise. But it's not going to get like that again. Trust me. I don't have to drink away the idea of my life. I actually like it now. And your son is the main reason for that.”

“I'm so glad that you two found each other again,” Annabella said, smiling. “I don't think I've ever seen Remy so happy.”

“Well, you're the reason that we found each other again, so I suppose we better be thanking you for that.”

“What is she talking about, Annabella?” Jean-Luc asked.

“Marie and I ran into each other on the street, went and had lunch. I realized she needed Remy back in her life so I concocted a way for her to meet up with him again. I wanted him to be surprised.”

“Oh, he definitely was surprised,” Marie said, laughing. “Still, we both need to thank you profusely for that.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me that, Annabella?” Jean-Luc asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Annabella sighed. “Because I knew how you'd react.”

“How I'd react? Annabella, honestly.”

“Look at you right now,” Annabella said. “Upset because I reconnected Remy and Marie. I knew that would happen so I didn't say anything about it.”

“What is going on?” Marie asked, looking at Jean-Luc warily.

Annabella just shook her head. “Pay no attention to him. He needs to let go of certain things and he just refuses to do that.”

“Is this about my family again? Because I assure you, Jean-Luc, they have nothing to do with me and Remy,” Marie said.

“Excuse me,” Jean-Luc said, turning and walking away.

Annabella just smiled at her. “It's nothing, dear. Don't worry about it.”

“Does Jean-Luc really not like me?” Marie said. “Because I've always had the impression that he doesn't like me.”

Annabella sighed again. “It's not that he doesn't like you. It's that he doesn't like the idea of you.”

“I have no idea what that's supposed to mean,” Marie said.

“It means that Jean-Luc has it in his head that you're exactly like your parents and he refuses to let that go,” Annabella said. “And he had his sights on another woman for Remy to marry instead of you.”

“Another woman?”

“Belladonna,” Annabella said. “Perhaps you've heard of her.”

“Oh, I've heard of her alright. Yesterday, from Bobby,” Marie said angrily. “Remy hasn't said a word to me about her.”

“I'm not surprised about that,” Annabella said. “Remy and Belladonna were quite the interesting pair. I honestly don't know how it worked for so long. They fought constantly. I wasn't shocked it ended the way it did. But Jean-Luc adored her.”

“So he's upset that I'm not Belladonna?” Marie asked, sipping at her drink. “No offense, Annabella, but that's fucking insanity.”

“Give me time to work on him,” Annabella said. “He's still quite upset about the mess you and Remy have found yourselves in, no matter how many times I tell him that it nothing of your doing and everything of Douglas Ramsey's. I think that man needs a psychiatric evaluation given everything he's done to you two.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Marie said.

“Given everything that Remy has told me, I'm not sure I want to know all of it,” Annabella said. “He definitely does sound insane though.”

“He is insane, psychologically diagnosed or not. And my father has been helping him too. That's why I want him out of my life.”

“Your father has been helping him?” Annabella gasped. “Owen has been helping in this madness?”

“Oh yes, good ole dad wants connections between the D'Ancantos and the Ramseys, and I was the golden ticket. He's so upset that I'm doing everything I can to resist this. I cannot tell you how many times we've screamed down the phone at each other about it.”

Annabella wrapped an arm around Marie's shoulders again. “Perhaps the four of us need to sit down and get everything out on the table. Because I know Jean-Luc would be shocked to hear this and start to realize that this isn't your fault.”

“He thinks this is my fault?” Marie shook her head. “That should surprise me more than it does.”

“Yes, well, you've been getting your information about him from Remy. I'm not surprised that is the viewpoint you have,” Annabella said. “I've tried repairing their relationship as much as I can, but I'm afraid at this point that it's irreparably broken.”

“To be frank, Annabella, Jean-Luc treats him like shit,” Marie said. “Nothing Remy does is ever good enough in his eyes, and Remy's going to be furious when he finds out that I'm not good enough either.”

“I know,” Annabella said. “That's why I was hoping this trip would go well. That Jean-Luc would be around you two and realize how incredibly in love you are and that this is a good thing. And I'm not losing hope on that either. Jean-Luc can be stubborn for sure, but he's not a complete fool. He'll notice.”

“Well, hopefully, that's soon,” Marie said, “because I can't figure out what his problem is, even with you just saying all of that. It's got to be more than me not being this Belladonna.”

“There are days when even I don't know what his problem is,” Annabella said. “He'll just go on and on about how Remy is making mistake after mistake in his life and I can't understand why he thinks all of these really important life events are mistakes. He's even upset that Remy's in the band, for fuck's sake.”

Marie's eyes widened. “He's what?”

Annabella just nodded. “Jean-Luc was so proud that Remy got into Columbia. You remember, Marie, surely. He was furious when he found out Remy wasn't going to classes and was instead in the band. Remy was struggling mightily and he saw it as him giving up when he should have been fighting. Belladonna was the shining light of hope in his eyes.”

“Remy's never mentioned any of this to me,” Marie said. “Not a thing.”

“Yes, well, I think Remy wants to forget everything about Columbia except for the band.”

“I've told him everything,” Marie said bitterly. “Every single thing about Georgetown, everything about my friends, and definitely everything about how batshit crazy Doug is. And he's apparently been holding out a lot on me. I'm furious.”

“I don't blame you, dear, but Belladonna especially is a hard subject for Remy to talk about, even with me,” Annabella said. “He's barely said ten words to me about her since they split. But I know enough to know that interview she did was bullshit.”

“Do you think he's ever going to mention it to me? Because he still hasn't even mentioned the article to me.”

“I'm not entirely sure he knows about the article,” Annabella said. “Hank said he's been trying to keep that from becoming something Remy knows about until after the tour is over. Remy never responds well to these sorts of stories.”

“What I can't understand is why now?” Marie asked. “Remy's been famous for years. Why wait until now?”

“Honestly, I think it's because of you,” Annabella said. “The engagement was announced and so now it's time to make Remy look like an asshole because he already left another woman at the altar.”

“No,” Marie said, shaking her head. “It's more than that.”

“I think you're just being paranoid because of this Douglas Ramsey situation,” Annabella said, smiling as _Lovers in the Garden_ started playing. “Oh, I love this one. It's my favorite.”

“Oh yeah?” Marie said. “It's one of my favorites too.”

“Well, I'd hope so since it's about you,” Annabella said. “Come on, Marie, let's dance.”

Marie looked over at her future mother-in-law and smiled. “Sure, Annabella. Let's dance.”

**********

“Are you ever going to tell me why you're mad at me?” Remy asked as he closed the door to their hotel room. 

“You mean you can't figure it out?” Marie asked, walking into the room as Remy leaned up against the door. 

“I have a good idea,” Remy said. “You're mad about the article.”

Marie just shook her head. “I couldn't give a fuck about the article.”

“Then what is it?”

Marie spun around. “I've told you everything, Remy. _Everything_. And I have to find out via an article in a tabloid? For fuck's sake, Bobby and Annabella have told me more about her than you ever have.”

Remy pushed away from the door and reached for Marie, sighing when she pulled her arm away. “Marie.”

“No, Remy,” Marie said bitterly. “Whatever you're about to say does not make this okay.”

“Can I explain please?”

Marie threw open her suitcase and started rummaging around in it. “I'm not sure I want to hear about how you proposed to another woman.”

“I didn't,” Remy said, and Marie stopped.

“Don't fucking lie to me.”

“I'm not,” Remy said, holding up his hands when Marie glared at him. “I've never told anyone the truth. Please, let me tell you.”

Marie sighed and walked over to the table and chairs, sitting down and crossing her arms over her chest. “Talk.”

“Belladonna and I met at Columbia. We had a bunch of classes together. She took a liking to me and was just around all the time. So I decided it might be nice to have a girlfriend for once and asked her out. I certainly wasn't intending for it to turn out the way it did. We went from one date to serious as fuck in about a week. She became like a security blanket after awhile. Someone I could go home to after shows, someone who could help me out in the classes I was still going to, someone who seemed to love me. I was still heartbroken, Marie. I was furious with myself for losing you because by that point it had been a year since we'd spoken. I called your house a lot and was always told that they'd pass my message along to you, but you never called.

“But Belladonna was there and she said she loved me and I just...I mentioned to her one day that if I was ever going to get married I'd want to do it before we were famous so I didn't have to go through all this public relationship bullshit that you and I have had to go through. The photographers, the articles, all that bullshit. Anyway, I said that to her and the next day we were at my parents and she just comes out and tells them that we're getting married. I certainly never proposed to her. But my mother was so happy and my father...my father actually looked proud of me for once, and I just thought that maybe this was the right thing to do. So I never corrected anyone, gave her my grandmother's ring. And then we got the record deal and I got this signing bonus so I was going to buy her a real ring and figure out about a wedding because I thought I was doing the right thing. 

“Instead I came home two weeks later to find my bank account empty and her gone. She even took my grandmother's ring. I was infuriated more than I was devastated, but because I was supposed to be the guy in love enough to want to get married, I let everyone think I was just devastated. I didn't want anyone to know how pathetic I actually was. And all that did was make me miss you more because if there was ever a time that I needed my best friend, it was then.”

“And you thought I'd completely forgotten about you,” Marie said, realization in her voice. “You thought I'd totally blown you off.”

“Pretty much,” Remy said. “I realize now that you didn't, but at the time it was all I could think about. And then I started hearing about you and Doug, and I thought he was about ten billion times better than I could ever be, so I started writing songs to get you out of my head. I never thought they'd actually be good enough to put on an album. But the first time I played _Back to Wonderland_ for Bobby, he about flipped out about how good it was and wanted to know why I was holding back the fact that I was a songwriter. I played him everything else I'd written to that point, a lot of which ended up on the first album. The more I wrote, the more I thought I was getting over you. What was really happening was that I was getting over Belladonna and more focused on you than ever. 

“God, Marie, if you only knew how much I thought about you. You'll hate this, but I'd buy magazines you were on the cover of just so I could see you. It killed me to see you and Doug at this fancy ball and that premiere but you looked happy and that was all I wanted. When you showed up at the mystery gig and told me you weren't going to marry him, I can't even express how much that made my world better. Every day that I'm around you is a better day than days when I'm not, and this past year with you has been better than my time with Belladonna could have ever been. So yes, I didn't tell you about her. I wasn't sure how to without sounding like some kind of crazy lovesick idiot. I was going to at some point because I figured she'd do this eventually. I was hoping I'd do it before then but I wasn't expecting that article the other day. Emma was blindsided by it and Emma's never blindsided by things. So, I'm sorry. You deserved to hear all of that from me first, and I will never be able to make that up to you. My deepest and most sincere apologies. Your turn.”

Remy collapsed down onto one of the beds and ran his hands over his face. Marie watched him for a moment before standing up and walking to the bed, laying down next to him and putting her head on his chest. They laid there in silence for a few minutes before Marie decided to start speaking.

“I forgive you. I wish you would have told me, but I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Remy said. “I really am sorry.”

“Don't apologize anymore. It's over.”

“I can't even begin to apologize enough though.”

“Remy, I'm serious,” Marie said. “The fact that you told me the truth is worth more than an apology. Why haven't you ever told your mother all of that? You know she'd have been sympathetic.”

“Because I didn't want my father to find out,” Remy said. “It would just disappoint him even more.”

Marie shifted around until she was looking down at him. “You're going to have to talk to him at some point. The four of us need to have a conversation about everything that's been going on.”

“No, we really don't,” Remy said, shaking his head. “I'm done.”

“Remy.”

“I'm serious. I have been more miserable since they showed up than I've been since before you came back into my life. I cannot take this negativity and I'm sick of trying to live up to whatever expectation he has. He can be at the wedding if he wants to be but after that, I'm not making an effort anymore. It's too stressful and my life is stressful enough.”

“Alright,” Marie said, tangling her fingers in Remy's hair. “I'm not having my father at the wedding. I decided it tonight. I cannot deal with his negativity either. He's a fucking asshole who has tried to control my life for far too long. He's been abusive and cold and treats me like I'm a servant more than his daughter. I'm fucking done. So I'm done with my father and you're done with yours.”

“Alright,” Remy said. “We don't need them anyway. We've got each other.”

“Precisely,” Marie said, bending to kiss him. “So now I have to figure out who is going to walk me down the aisle.”

“Oh, is there going to be an aisle?”

“Of course there's going to be an aisle,” Marie said, rolling her eyes. “The guests have to sit somewhere and we have to get to the altar.”

“I don't think that in front of that big window is technically an altar.”

“Well, whatever it is, we need an aisle to get to it.”

Remy looked over at her and smiled. “I don't know what I'd do without you, Marie. Don't ever leave me.”

“I won't,” Marie promised. “So long as you never leave me.”

“I won't,” Remy said, rolling Marie onto her back and climbing on top of her. “May I show you how much I need you?”

“You're asking for permission now?” Marie laughed.

“I'm being serious.”

Marie's smile softened. “Take off that shirt, LeBeau. It's entirely too tight and has been driving me crazy ever since the show ended.”

Remy laughed and sat up. “As you wish.”


	30. Chapter 30

The picture was everywhere. Articles on the internet, threads on social media, the front page of the fucking _Post_. Bobby sighed heavily at the array of them spread out on the table in front of him and looked over at Emma. “I don't know what to say.”

“I know that Erik's fucking furious,” Emma said seriously. “I also know that if you ever wanted to make this public, now is the time to do so. They are going to be watching your every move from now on trying to catch something like this again.”

Bobby picked up the _Post_ and looked at the picture again. It was from a few nights previous in Paris when it was just the two of them on the stage and it was extremely obvious that someone who was working on the tour had caught them. The only question left in Bobby's mind was who was it. “Who took the picture?”

“I'm working on getting that information out of the _Post_ reporter,” Emma said. “It's probably going to cost a pretty penny to get it.”

“I don't care how much money I have to pay them,” Bobby said seriously. “I just want to know who sold us out.”

The door opened and John came walking in, shaking his head. “We just got back this morning, so someone is going to have to give me a good fucking reason for why I have to be here now. And why are there so many snaps outside? The way they were shouting, it's like they were waiting specifically for me.”

“Because they were,” Emma said. “Come sit down, John.”

John pulled out the chair next to Bobby's and dropped down in it, and Bobby just handed him the newspaper that was in his hands. “Someone sold us out.”

John took one look at the photo and swallowed hard. “Who?”

“I'm working on that,” Emma said, standing up and walking towards the door. “I think you two need to talk alone for a few minutes so I'm going to leave you.”

John dropped the newspaper down onto the table as she closed the door behind her, and he ran his hands over his face. “Fuck.”

“This is my fault,” Bobby said after a moment. “I'm the one who didn't listen to you that night.”

“This is not your fault,” John said strongly, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Bobby's. “I didn't have to do it either.”

“Erik is going to lose his fucking mind,” Bobby said. “And yet that's not the reaction I'm worried about at the moment.”

“Have you heard from them yet?”

“Fuck no,” Bobby exclaimed. “I've gotten a few texts from Ronny but I haven't even thought about looking at them.”

“I suppose this is what the texts I've been getting from Catherine are about,” John said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I just figured I'd deal with it after this fucking meeting with Erik that I didn't understand the point of. Now I do.”

“Her reaction is probably going to be the friendliest one we get from our families,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath and reaching for his phone. “And I should probably stop putting this off.”

“You really think that Ronny will react the way your parents will?” John asked, letting go of Bobby's hand so he could open up his phone. “Because I don't remember your brother being that much of a conceited douchebag. Your parents are definitely conceited douchebags. No offense.”

“None taken,” Bobby said. “I know they are and, trust me, so is he. And I know I shouldn't care about this, because I know I have more family than just them, but yet...”

“But yet it's the biggest fucking deal in the world that your parents are about to likely kick you out of their lives because of who it is you have chosen to love,” John finished. “Believe me, I know.”

Bobby took a deep breath before clicking through to the messages from his brother. “Ronny says that Mom and Dad want to talk but would I please do him a favor and delete his number from my phone like he is about to do with mine. I have to admit, that was much nicer than what I had been expecting.”

“Fuck him,” John murmured. “You don't need him. Catherine says that she cannot wait to meet you properly and that if we need her, she is available at any moment for either of us. She also adds that my parents want to talk to me and that I shouldn't let them dictate my life.”

“My parents are probably going to want me to come to Boston,” Bobby said, setting his phone down on the table. “Fuck that.”

“I'll go with you if you want me to.”

Bobby looked over at John and just shook his head. “That would only make things worse. And I'm not going to fucking Boston. Anything they have to say to me can be said over the telephone. I'm not going to even give them the chance to say it face to face.”

“I think I'm probably going to have to go through that,” John said, smiling sadly. “Can't get out of it when they're just in Queens.”

“Maybe make sure Catherine is there with you? Because I'm sure you don't want me to be.”

“I think Catherine will demand to be there. And I wouldn't put you through that.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “We've got to figure out what to do about the rest of the world.”

“It was only a matter of time before this happened. They've been trying to catch us for weeks.”

“I know,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “I will not deny the fact that this is terrifying, but something Emma said to me is true. If there is ever a time when we're going to make this public, now is probably the time to do it.”

“I don't want to put out a press release that lets the world know that we're fucking,” John said, shaking his head. “That's not how I want to do this.”

“Then how do you want to do this?” Bobby asked, his voice trembling. “Because I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

John reached out and pulled Bobby into a kiss. “I know this seems terrible, but things could be a lot, lot worse.”

“I don't know how it is that you of all people are saying that. I don't know why you're so calm about this,” Bobby said honestly. “I never, ever thought in all the scenarios that I've had over the years where this could possibly happen that you would be the one who is calm and I would be the one who is freaking the fuck out.”

“Oh, I'm not calm, trust me,” John said, kissing Bobby again. “But I'm more infuriated at the fact that someone sold us out than I am at anything else. I told you, I am not fundamentally opposed to having this happen at some point. I just guess that some point has happened.”

“So how do you want to do this then?” Bobby asked after another kiss. “Because I'm sure that Erik and Emma will want to know how we want them to handle this.”

“Simple, really,” John said. “We just stop hiding. Let them catch me going over to your place. Let them catch you coming over to mine. Let us be photographed walking down the street together and having dinner together, things like that. Just stop hiding.”

“We'll be asked about it in every interview until the end of time.”

“I know.”

“So you will actually have to admit that this is happening because if we're going to stop hiding, I'm not letting you deny it to reporters for the rest of my life.”

John nodded. “If we stop hiding, I will not deny that it is happening. I will just say that I do not wish to elaborate on that, because I will never want to elaborate on any of this to a reporter.”

“That's fine,” Bobby said. “I don't particularly want to discuss certain details of our relationship with the press either. I'm just worried about things appearing anyway and your reaction to that.”

“I have no control over that, just like I have no control over this picture,” John said, glancing at the newspaper. “I can only control the information I choose to give out and give suggestions and opinions on the information that you choose to give out.”

“The information that I choose to give out?”

John nodded. “Everyone and their brother is going to go back through every song you've ever written, whether we've recorded it or someone else has, and determine who your muse is. And I'm not going to tell you that you have to keep that to yourself if you don't want to. Nor anything else either.”

Bobby laughed. “I think you just want everyone to know that all those songs are about you.”

“Well, they are gorgeous love songs.” John laughed too. “No, knowing they are about me is enough. But you know people are going to question it.”

“People are going to question everything, Johnny,” Bobby said. “They're going to want to know how long this has been going on, and if we're gay or bisexual, and why there were girls if we were involved with each other, and...”

John cut him off with a kiss. “Then let them. Just because they ask doesn't mean we have to answer.”

The door opened before Bobby could respond and Emma walked back into the room. “Either of you have any idea who Philippa Sontag is? Because she's the one who sold you out.”

“Philippa Sontag? I've never met anyone named Philippa Sontag before, and I make it a point to introduce myself to everyone working the tours,” Bobby said, looking over at John when he groaned. “What? Who is she?”

“You've never heard of Philippa Sontag because you were introduced to her as Philippa Madrox,” John said bitterly. “She's his fucking wife. Fuck.”

“Are you telling me that James Madrox's wife is the one who sold you out?” Emma asked in disbelief. “Because that makes no fucking sense to me. She would be someone who would know all about keeping things like this secret.”

“Positive. This tour wasn't the first time I met her. Back then, she was still Philippa Sontag,” John said, burying his face in his hands. “This is over the song. It has to be.”

“Song?” Emma asked.

“John wrote a song that James helped a little with that was about a sensitive topic, John performed it with him a few times, and then he told James he couldn't record it,” Bobby filled in when John said nothing. “James was not happy. The crowds apparently really loved that song.”

“No one is hearing that song ever again,” John said through gritted teeth. “That song was such a mistake.”

Bobby reached out and squeezed John's hand. “Anyway, Emma, let's just say there is some history between the three of us that is best left unexplained.”

“Well, when the day comes that it's relevant, and trust me that day will come if she's the one who put out this picture, then I will need to know about it,” Emma said, drumming her fingers against the table. “Erik is not coming since he can't get anywhere near the building because of all the photographers outside. Charles convinced him not to come kill the two of you because of it. I am not allowed to let you leave until I know how I'm supposed to handle this situation. I can write a very strongly worded denial in about ten minutes.”

John and Bobby looked at each other and John nodded slightly, so Bobby took a deep breath. “No denials.”

Emma dropped the pen in her hand. “What?”

“No denials,” John said. “But no confirmation either.”

“No offense, guys, but that is not a solution that Erik is going to be on board with because I'm not on board with it.”

“We don't want it to be done with a press release,” Bobby said. “We're just going to stop hiding. Yes, that means that they'll probably be catching us a lot, and yes, that means Erik's head is probably going to explode, but he told me a long time ago that John and I got to decide how this happened if this happened, and that's what we decided.” 

Emma sighed heavily. “He's not going to be happy.”

“I know he's not,” Bobby agreed.

“But you will have a voice in your corner because I think that's probably the best way to go about doing it,” Emma said, pausing. “But you guys have to fucking tell me what I need to know when I hear about something like this coming out. I need to be prepared for what's about to happen.”

“I can agree to that,” Bobby said, looking over at John.

John nodded. “I'll tell you when you need to. But only when you need to.”

“Don't worry,” Emma said, standing up. “I have no desire to know any more than I absolutely have to. I've already learned entirely too much about Remy and Marie and fucking Douglas Ramsey for my sanity.”

John laughed as he stood up too. “Well, there's no ex-fiancées coming for either of us, so that should help.”

“Let's hope so,” Emma said as Bobby stood. “I have been advised to make sure that you two leave here separately, but if you're not going to hide anymore, then I'll leave that decision up to you. Just make sure the photographers know that you both have left, alright? I can't have them in front of the building all night waiting for one of you to come out.”

“We will,” Bobby said, smiling at her as she walked out of the room. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Did you drive here?” John asked.

“No, I took the train.”

“I drove,” John said, smiling at him. “Want a ride home, Drake?”

Bobby smiled back. “I'd love one, Johnny.”

**********

“Neither Bobby or John are answering my calls or texts,” Remy said, throwing his phone on the bed frustratingly. “Don't they understand that they need support right now?”

Marie reached out and grabbed Remy's hand before he reached for the phone again. “I think that what they need at the moment is probably each other.”

“I don't want them to think that they're alone.”

“I'm sure that they don't,” Marie said, making Remy look over at her. 

“When did Bobby text you?”

Marie sighed heavily. “When they were on their way back to John's.”

“Of course he'd text you and not me,” Remy said, shifting around until he was facing her. “So what did he say?”

“He said they decided they're not going to hide anymore,” Marie said softly. “And then he said they're going to need a couple of days to come to terms with that. So like I said, what they need at the moment is probably each other.”

“They're not going to hide anymore?”

“That's what he said.”

“Wow,” Remy murmured. “Got to admit, I never saw this coming.”

“You never have told me how you guys found out about their relationship. It's never come up in any of my conversations with Bobby either.”

Remy rolled onto his back and ran his hands over his face. “Kitty's the one who found out. She walked in on them kissing and John immediately ran out of the room. Bobby broke down and told her that they were fooling around with each other but that was it. She told the rest of us, though. She thought it was important we all knew because of the band, you know? It was something that could possibly disrupt band chemistry.”

“And I'm sure John reacted well to that.”

“Of course he did,” Remy said sarcastically. “That's when his habit of denying that anything was happening started. As soon as he was gone though, Bobby told us that it really was. He swore that whatever happened with it wouldn't disrupt the band's chemistry and he was right. It never did. But the longer it went on, and the more John treated him like absolute shit, we all started feeling sorry for Bobby because we could tell that he was in love with him. It never occurred to any of us that John might have felt the same way until pretty recently.”

“Recently?”

“It was the fling with Jubilee that really got us thinking about it. I know we were all telling you that it was better for Bobby to be with him than without him for the band's chemistry, and I think we were right about that, but Bobby trying to end things because of her and how long it took for John to get him back...we all thought he'd never take John back, to be honest. And we were surprised by John's prolonged attempt to get him back. We had a bet going about how long it was before he moved on with Jubilee but it never happened.”

“Why am I not surprised that you had yet another bet going about the two of them?”

Remy laughed. “It was habit!”

“Sure it was,” Marie said, shaking her head. “Who won?”

“Kitty, I think,” Remy said, reaching for his phone. “I need to check so I can pay up.”

“And how much did you bet on this insanity?”

Remy looked over at her. “It was not insanity.”

“You had a bet on whether or not they'd get back together. To me, that's insanity.”

“Only because you never thought it would happen.”

“Oh, and you did?”

“To the point where they'd stop hiding? Of course not,” Remy said, pressing buttons on his phone. “But I thought they'd get back together at some point. You still haven't really seen them when they're together. It's so much better for everyone.”

“Even when John treated him like motherfucking dirt?” Marie just shook her head. “I cannot believe that.”

“Bobby is at his best when he's with John, trust me,” Remy said, pulling up a note and reading through it. “Yup, Kitty won. Going to have to check to make sure I have enough cash here in the house to pay her or else I'm going to have to go to the bank tomorrow.”

“And how much money is that?”

“Five thousand dollars,” Remy said, tossing his phone onto the bedside table and looking over at her. “Please never tell John or Bobby that.”

Marie's eyes widened. “And how much did everyone else bet?”

“Five thousand dollars. That was the buy-in on the bet and we agreed we wouldn't bet more than that.”

“And all of you bet on this?”

“Of course.”

Marie just sighed. “I cannot believe that you all bet on this.”

“We bet on everything,” Remy said. “I know they've got a bet going about what your wedding dress will be.”

Marie laughed. “I'm sure they do.”

“I think they're going to be surprised by what we're both wearing,” Remy said, smiling. “I may or may not have told Kitty that I have a suit fitting tomorrow morning.”

“And I may or may not have mentioned to Bobby that I have a dress fitting tomorrow. Instead, I'm spending it with Jubilee going over the flowers.”

“Flowers?”

Marie rolled her eyes. “There have to be some flowers, Remy.”

“Then there will be flowers,” Remy said, leaning over to kiss her. “I will actually be heading to the jeweler tomorrow. It's time to get your ring.”

Marie grinned. “I cannot wait to see it.”

“I cannot wait for you to wear it,” Remy said, grinning as well. “I took one of your other rings to them so they could find out the right size.”

“Is that where my emerald ring went for a few days before you magically found it for me?”

“Maybe,” Remy said coyly. “I just wanted it to fit right.”

“It will,” Marie murmured, kissing him again. “And if not, we'll get it adjusted.”

Remy went to speak but yawned instead and Marie pushed him onto his back. “Sleep, Remy. You barely slept all day and I know you're exhausted.”

“I had a lot to do today,” Remy said, yawning again.

“I would hardly call catching up on television a lot to do.”

“So says you who doesn't care that we missed an entire season of _Game of Thrones_ while we were gone,” Remy said, settling his head on his pillow. “I needed to watch all of it before I was spoiled by someone.”

“This is why you wouldn't check Twitter while we were gone, isn't it?”

“I don't think you appreciate how you need to watch this show without being spoiled,” Remy said, closing his eyes. “Of course that's why I didn't check Twitter while we were gone.”

Marie just shook her head and settled down next to him. “Just go to sleep, Remy. Tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You need to watch the show from the beginning without spoilers, so I'm not going to tell you about it.”

Marie laughed. “Whatever you say, darling.”


	31. Chapter 31

John groaned when there was another knock on the door. “Go the fuck away!”

Bobby laughed as he sat down on the sofa next to him. “That's not very nice.”

“Neither is photographers banging on my door at all hours,” John said, shaking his head when the knocking continued. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

“Open this fucking door before I find some way of breaking it down,” came a muffled voice and they both looked at each other.

“Is that Erik?” Bobby asked.

“Fuck,” John said, getting up quickly and heading towards the door. 

Bobby stood and followed him, and John left the chain on the door and opened it slightly. “Erik?”

“Yes, it's fucking me and get this door fucking open now before I kill both of you,” Erik said irritably.

“John, could you please open the door?” came Charles's voice. “Before Erik's head explodes, preferably.”

John shut the door to undo the chain and then opened it, letting Erik and Charles into the apartment. “Hello.”

“You are a fucking nightmare,” Erik said, pushing past John and into the apartment. “You too, Bobby.”

Charles just shook his head as John closed the door, quickly pulling him into a hug as soon as it was shut. “Ignore him.”

“That's a little difficult to do and you know that,” John said as Charles gave Bobby a hug. “He controls our lives.”

“He controls your careers,” Charles said strongly. “You control your lives.”

“The fuck they do!” Erik yelled. “Get the fuck in here now!”

Charles shook his head. “I'm right. Just remember that.”

“You're always right, Charles,” Bobby laughed, reaching for John's hand. “Come on, we need to go talk to him before he starts breaking things.”

“I really don't want him to do that,” John said, letting Bobby lead him into the sitting room. “Last time he threw a remote through my television.”

“You fucking deserved that,” Erik said firmly. “And you're going to fucking deserve this too.”

“You need to calm down, Erik,” Bobby said as he and John sat down on the sofa. “You knew this was going to happen someday.”

“I know I told the two of you to figure things out but this was not part of the deal,” Erik said, dropping down into one of the chairs as Charles sat down in the other.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “And what did you expect us to do about the picture, Erik?”

“Deny the fuck out of it, that's what I expected!” Erik yelled. “And yet, there is no denial out there. Instead, there are photographs of the two of you having dinner together last night!”

“Well, we had to have dinner somewhere,” John said. “I didn't have anything to eat here. I'd been gone for five months.”

“You did not have to have a motherfucking sit-down dinner in view of all the cameras!” Erik said, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. “I could fucking kill you both.”

“Erik, you need to calm down,” Charles tried. “This is nothing that bad.”

Erik turned to Charles and gave him a look that clearly said he thought Charles was insane. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No, I'm not,” Charles said, shaking his head. “They are allowed to have lives, darling. And the fact that they are choosing to spend their lives together is not something that needs to be explained away with press releases.”

“What do you expect me to do? Let them do this?”

“That's exactly what I expect you to do,” Charles said, reaching out to take Erik's hand in his. “You know that you have no problem with the fact that they're in love.”

“In love? Oh, give me a fucking break.”

“It's the truth,” John said quietly. “We're in love.”

Erik switched his gaze to John. “I'm supposed to believe that after all the shit that you have pulled over the years?”

“It's the truth,” John repeated. “There's a lot about our relationship that you don't know, Erik. And it's going to stay that way.”

“Yes, it is,” Bobby said, tangling his fingers together with John's. “I'm not telling anyone any more than I absolutely have to.”

“Fuck me,” Erik muttered. “I don't have the patience for this.”

“Erik,” Charles said. “Stop thinking as their manager and start thinking as their friend. They need all the friends they can get right now.”

“Fine,” Erik said through gritted teeth. “I have told you two for forever to figure this the fuck out and I'm glad that you have.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said. “We appreciate that.”

“And as your manager, I have always told you that no one can find out about this.”

John rolled his eyes. “It wasn't planned, Erik. We didn't know that Madrox's wife was there.”

“Madrox's wife?” Charles asked.

“Emma got the name of who gave them the picture out of the _Post_ reporter,” Bobby said. “It was Madrox's wife.”

“This is over the song,” John said, letting his head fall back against the sofa. “That fucking song.”

“Song?” Erik asked. “I have been contacted by Madrox's manager wanting me to talk you into letting him record some song you wrote, John. Is this the same song?”

“No fucking way in fucking hell am I letting him record that fucking song!” John practically yelled. “Even letting him have anything to do with it was such a fucking mistake.”

Bobby sighed as John got up and stalked away. “Johnny, come back.”

John didn't say anything and disappeared down the hallway, so Bobby turned his attention back to Erik and Charles. “Let's just say that song is a sensitive subject.”

“Why?” Charles asked.

Bobby swallowed hard. “Because the song is about me.”

Erik stared at him in disbelief. “He wrote a song with _James Madrox_ about you? The guy you told me he slept with when you yelled at me about Madrox being the opening act on the tour?”

“Yes. And according to John, James only helped a tiny bit with the music. John wrote the rest,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “And I honestly never want to hear James sing that song ever again, so he's definitely not recording it.”

“Is the band going to record it then?”

“No one is going to record it,” Bobby said. “That's the way John wants it.”

“What's it about?”

“I honestly have no idea. Every time I heard James sing it, I stopped listening halfway through the first verse.”

“Even though the song was about you?”

“Because the song was about me,” Bobby said firmly. “I didn't need to hear those words from his fucking mouth.”

Erik sat back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. “Motherfucking hell. You two are assholes.”

“Erik, this is going to be okay. And you know that,” Charles said. “You always knew that this would cause a furor should it ever be discovered. Not that it should.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “The fuck it shouldn't.”

Charles sighed. “People are allowed to be in same-sex relationships, Erik. You happen to be in one yourself.”

“I'm not a world-famous rock star,” Erik muttered.

“And it doesn't matter that they are either,” Charles said. “And deep down you know that.”

“You guys had a very carefully crafted image,” Erik said, looking straight at Bobby. “And then motherfucking Marie D'Ancanto shows up and it all goes to motherfucking hell.”

“Never let Remy hear you talk about her that way or you're going to get punched in the face,” Bobby said seriously. “And I think it's better this way, actually.”

“How the fuck is this better?” Erik exclaimed.

“We're people now,” Bobby said calmly. “We're not perfect people in a perfect band that works like clockwork. We're people who actually feel things and make mistakes and do things that might not be the societal norm. We're not a machine anymore.”

Erik took a deep breath. “I don't need you all to be people. I need you to be a band.”

“And we are,” Bobby said. “I think we're better now than we were when we left on the tour. I am so inspired at the moment, Erik. I could probably write five songs today if I took the time.”

“Then take the fucking time,” Erik said. “There needs to be another album out as soon as possible.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” John said, walking back into the room. “We literally just released _Masters In Japanese_ like two months ago.”

“I know, but as soon as there is new music to concentrate on, the media might remember that you're a band and not a couple of fucking homos, as one of the papers so nicely put it this morning,” Erik said, groaning. “You really won't let me put out a denial?”

“No, we won't,” John said, sitting back down. “You and I already had discussions about making this public that you agreed to when the time was right. That got taken out of our hands because of this fucking photograph. I'm not fucking denying it. Besides, it's pretty goddamn obvious that denial would be bullshit.”

“They're going to be digging around for anything they can find now,” Erik said seriously. “You have to be extra careful of what you want to put out there.”

“We know,” Bobby said, reaching for John's hand. “But we can only control what we choose to do. Whatever comes from outside of that, it'll be what it'll be and we'll deal with it at the time. And nothing is ever going to come from a fucking press release. That's not how we want to do this.”

Erik stared at them for a moment before standing up. “Fine.”

Charles stood up as well, reaching for Erik's hand. “I'm so glad you two have worked things out. And he really is happy for you two as well. I know it doesn't seem that way, but it's the truth.”

“I think we already knew that, but thanks, Charles,” Bobby said, standing up and pulling John up as well. “When is the next meeting?”

Erik took a deep breath. “There isn't one. You guys get a month's break. Then you're back in the studio working on another album. Check your emails, by the way. There's a bunch of information about how the albums are doing in different countries. You've got three of the top ten albums in Australia at the moment. The emails are important.”

John's eyes widened. “Three of the top ten? Seriously?”

Erik let out a small laugh. “You guys are better than I ever thought you would be, to be perfectly honest. I shouldn't be surprised by that because Charles picked you out, but I am. Charles is always right about these things.”

“Charles is always right period,” he said, making Erik laugh. “Oh, darling, you know I'm right about that too.”

“Yes, you are,” Erik said, looking over at John and Bobby. “Not a word about that admission to anyone.”

“Of course not,” Bobby said, biting back a laugh. “But I think everyone already knows that.”

“Read the fucking emails,” Erik demanded. “And I will see you soon. I'm sure there will be some reason for all of us to get together.”

Erik pulled Charles towards the door and John laughed once he heard it open and close. “Why do I feel like he doesn't know when Remy and Marie are getting married?”

“Because he probably doesn't,” Bobby said, smiling at him. “But that's not our concern.”

“And what is our concern then?” John said, yelping when Bobby started pulling him down the hallway. “Where are we going?”

“I need to write like seventeen different songs today,” Bobby said, passing by John's music room. “But first I'd like to get some inspiration.”

John laughed as they turned a corner. “We don't need an excuse to fuck, Bobby. You could have just said you wanted to.”

“I wasn't kidding about the songs. It's not an excuse.”

“Then I can't wait to hear them.”

**********

Marie opened the front door expecting Jubilee and found Doug instead. “Great.”

“It's wonderful to see you too, love,” Doug said, pushing his way into the house. “I must say, Marie, I'm not very happy with you.”

“I'm not particularly thrilled to see you either,” Marie said, shutting the door. “What the fuck do you want now?”

“You know that I can't possibly allow this little engagement of yours to stand, right?” Doug said, turning to face her. “Because I can't.”

“Doug, you don't get to control my life, no matter how much you're trying to. I'm going to marry Remy and you're going to stay the fuck away from me,” Marie said. “In fact, you're supposed to be staying away from me or do you not remember having that paperwork delivered to you?”

“Yes, yes, I got your silly paperwork and threw it into the trash,” Doug said, walking towards her with menace in his eyes. “You know that was not acceptable.” 

Marie took a step backward. “Doug, stop this now.”

“You need to be disciplined, Marie. You've been a very bad girl.”

Marie backed up against the door and swallowed hard. “Don't do this. Please don't do this.”

“Your pathetic little pleas never work and you know that,” Doug said, but before he could take another step something hit him hard in the back of the head. He made an unintelligible sound before dropping down to the ground and Marie saw Remy standing there, some sort of heavy decorative globe in his hand. 

“Remy,” Marie said, her voice trembling, and Remy dropped what was in his hands and stepped over Doug, pulling her into his arms. 

“It's okay,” Remy said as Marie buried her face in his neck. “I already called the police as soon as I saw him outside through the window upstairs. I was coming to help kick him out when I saw what was happening. I couldn't let it happen. I don't care if I have to end up in court again.”

“Thank you,” Marie breathed into his neck. “You're still my knight in shining armor.”

Remy laughed. “Are we going back to high school now? That ridiculous Shakespearean play I was in? I don't even remember which one it was.”

“I don't either,” Marie murmured. “But you were my knight in shining armor that night too.”

“This is a little different than getting you away from Jimmy's unwanted advances.”

“Still my knight in shining armor,” Marie said, shuddering when she heard Doug groan. 

Remy reached out and kicked Doug in the head, knocking him out again. “He's not going to hurt you, Marie. I promise he's never going to hurt you ever again.”

They stood there, Marie clinging to him until Remy heard the siren from outside. “I think the police are here, okay? Let's let them in.”

Marie nodded but didn't move away, so Remy carefully maneuvered them around when the knock at the door came. He pried Marie away from him so she could talk to the police as he went to get the paperwork that contained the restraining order, and by the time he got back to the entryway, Doug was being hauled off the floor and handcuffs were being placed around his wrists. He pulled Marie back into his arms as Doug turned his gaze to them.

“You're going to regret this, Marie. You know what you've just done.”

“I'm not going to regret a thing,” Marie said firmly. “I'm getting rid of you for good.”

“You can't do that, love. You know you belong with me.”

“No, I really don't,” Marie said as one of the officers walked him out the door. 

After a brief conversation with the other officer, Remy closed the door and Marie slid down the wall to the floor. “Are you alright?”

“I honestly don't know how to answer that question,” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “I think I'm fine. It just brought back a lot of memories.”

Remy went to respond but there was another knock at the door, so he peeked outside through the side window before opening the door. “Jubilee, Theresa. Come on in.”

They walked inside and the moment Jubilee saw Marie, she dropped down to her knees. “What happened?”

“Doug was just here,” Remy said when Marie didn't say anything. “He wanted to discipline her, as he so nicely put it.”

Theresa dropped to her knees next to Jubilee, and they each reached out and took one of Marie's hands. “Tell us what you need us to do,” Theresa said, and Jubilee nodded.

“Anything. We'll do anything you need us to.”

Marie took a deep breath before she looked up at them. “I need to do what we planned to do.”

“Are you sure?” Jubilee asked, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, are you sure?” Theresa asked. “Because we can totally do all of this at another time.”

Marie shook her head. “No, I need this to happen. The sooner we get everything arranged, the sooner I can marry Remy, and the sooner Doug will realize that he's lost.”

“I'm not sure he's going to realize that, honey,” Jubilee said softly.

“Yeah, well, I've got him to where he's going to go before a judge in a criminal court now,” Marie said, her voice strong. “And I'm going to walk into that court and tell them everything. And I mean everything, not just about what happened here today.”

“I think that's likely enough to get a judge to order a psych evaluation. I know that's what I would be asking for if I was your lawyer,” Jubilee said. “So I hope you mention that to Charles.”

“Don't worry, I will,” Marie said. “Help me up?”

Jubilee and Theresa got up and then each took one of Marie's hands, helping her to stand. She leaned up against the wall for a moment before smiling at them. “I'm alright.”

“Are you sure?” Remy asked, and Marie nodded. 

“I want the future off of the phrase future Mrs. LeBeau,” Marie said, her smile turning into a grin. “So I'm going to go with them and plan things.”

Remy walked over to her and drew her into a kiss. “I am very much looking forward to taking the future off that phrase, future Mrs. LeBeau.”

Jubilee laughed behind them. “You two are ridiculously adorable, you know that?”

“I agree,” Theresa said, smiling at them. “Now it's just time to let the world see it. Have you talked to him about that yet?”

Remy turned to Marie and she sighed heavily. “ _Vanity Fair_ approached Sebastian and Emma about a feature on us and the wedding. I hadn't had a chance to bring it up yet with all this John and Bobby nonsense going on.”

“A feature in _Vanity Fair_ about our wedding?” Remy asked, shaking his head. “If Sebastian and Emma think that's something we should do, then I think we should do it.”

Marie looked at him for a moment. “You realize that means letting a _Vanity Fair_ photographer come to the wedding, right?”

Remy nodded. “I'd rather it be in _Vanity Fair_ than _People_ , _US Weekly_ , or the fucking _Post_.”

Marie smiled at him. “Then I will call Sebastian and tell him to get it set up.”

Remy pulled her into another kiss. “I will do anything it takes to make people realize how utterly amazing you are, even this.”

“You're pretty utterly amazing yourself,” Marie said, pushing him away from her. “Go get my ring and then go over to Sean's like you're supposed to. He needs advice about Moira.”

“I know, I know,” Remy said, walking further into the house. “I will see you later, ladies.”

Marie turned to Jubilee and Theresa, laughing at the grins on their faces. “What?”

“Remember how I wanted to kill you for not telling me you knew Remy LeBeau? I don't want to kill you anymore,” Jubilee said. “I'm just glad you found each other again.”

“I completely agree with that statement,” Theresa said. “And we're going to help you two have the best wedding you could ever ask for.”

Marie laughed. “Just so long as we don't stray away from my theme.”

“The socialite and the rock star,” Theresa said. “We've got it, don't worry.”

“Then let me go get my bag and we'll go,” Marie said, smiling at them.


	32. Chapter 32

“So, Remy, I have to talk to you about something,” Marie said, leaning up against the counter next to him. “And I don't think you're going to like it because I don't like it.”

Remy put down the mail he was looking through and looked at her with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“So that wedding date of next week? We're not going to be able to do it then.”

“What? Why?”

Marie sighed. “Since we agreed to the _Vanity Fair_ feature, we have to give them time to make room in an upcoming issue, and assign a writer for the article, and find the right available photographer for the job, or so Sebastian says.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Remy exclaimed. “How long is this going to prolong things?”

Marie ran her hands over her face. “Two months.”

“What?”

“Two months,” Marie repeated. “Sebastian said that they would have something in place in two months. They weren't expecting us to have the wedding so soon and Sebastian didn't know how soon I was talking about when he was approached by them. Apparently they thought it would be like six to nine months from now.”

“So now we have to delay getting married so that we can appease a fucking magazine? What the fuck?”

“I know, I know, it sucks. But having a little more time might actually be a good thing.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, for one, we need to tell Erik what we're planning,” Marie said. “I know we were going to just tell him to show up at the penthouse and surprise him with the fact that it was a wedding, but he probably does need to know about what's happening, especially now that there's a magazine involved. Plus I think it might be a good idea not to piss him off given what's just gone down with John and Bobby.”

Remy ran a hand through his hair. “You're probably right about that. Erik might have murdered me otherwise.”

“Might have murdered us,” Marie corrected. “Apparently he showed up at John's this morning, screamed at him and Bobby for awhile, and mentioned how everything, in his eyes, has gone to hell since I came back into your life.”

“Of course he did,” Remy sighed. “I think it's going to be awhile before he really starts to like you.”

“Charles told me that he really does, deep down, but that he refuses to admit it until I prove to be an advantage to the band instead of a distraction.”

“You're not the distraction. Motherfucking Douglas Ramsey is the distraction,” Remy muttered. “I suppose I need to call Erik and tell him what's going on. He's going to be furious, but we're doing this anyway.”

“You call Erik. I have to call my father.”

“What the fuck are you calling your father for? I thought you were done with him.”

“I am,” Marie said seriously. “But Alexander mentioned the wedding to him and Henry told me that he's planning on coming with that young bitch that he married last weekend, so I have to tell him that he's not welcome.”

“What the fuck did Alexander mention the wedding to him for?” Remy exclaimed. “He had to have known that was a bad idea!”

“He said he didn't mean to, but my father was going on about how I wasn't at his wedding and he mentioned that it was because I was busy planning my own without thinking,” Marie sighed. “I'm half tempted to uninvite him just for doing that.”

“I think you should. And I'm calling Alexander when I'm done with Erik.”

“No, you're not.”

“I have held my tongue long enough when it comes to your brothers,” Remy said seriously. “And I know you don't really want me to say this, but they don't treat you much better than your father does.”

“I never should have told you that they used to slap me around when we were kids.”

“Yes, you should have, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the fact that they both expect you to do whatever they want you to do whenever they want you to do it, just like your father does.”

“They do not.”

“Henry literally motherfucking screamed down the phone at you while we were in Barcelona because you wouldn't get on a flight back to New York just to have lunch with him,” Remy pointed out. “Alexander didn't speak to you for a month after you had to cancel a dinner with him and his girlfriend because he thought that meant you didn't approve. He only started speaking to you again because you told him that you'd buy dinner for the two of them and then he said you had to bring the girlfriend a gift to make up for it. He also specified the fucking amount that you had to spend on the fucking gift, and so the first and only time you met his fling of the month included you giving her a thousand dollar diamond bracelet. And they do this bullshit all the fucking time. They are exactly like your father, and I know you don't want to see that, but it's the truth.”

Marie stood there blinking for awhile. “They are, aren't they?” she eventually said. 

“Yes, Marie, they are,” Remy said softly. “And I'm sorry that I had to say all of that, but I think that you weren't realizing the truth.” Marie stood there saying nothing, so Remy pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you, Marie.”

“I love you too,” Marie mumbled. “Why didn't I ever notice the way that they treat me before?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I think it's because you don't know to be treated any differently,” Remy said. “You're constantly saying how great it is to feel like I care about you. It's because you have never been cared for before. You've even commented on how nice the band is compared to a lot of the so-called friends you have at all that society bullshit you go to. The only friends that you have ever had that treat you the way you deserve to be treated are Jubilee and Theresa.”

“I had you,” Marie said quietly. “And I always knew you were special, but I don't think I ever realized why I started to think that when I was six. I do now though. You cared about me. No one else did.”

“If I'd had any clue of what you were going through on a daily basis, I would have done everything that I could to get you away from it,” Remy murmured. “Even if it was nothing more than asking Mama if you could sleep over for a week, I would have gotten you away from it.”

“You are getting me away from it,” Marie said, tilting her head up to bring their lips together. “And you're making me see what my life has to be and what it doesn't. So I have just made a decision.”

“And what is this decision?”

“Fuck Alexander and Henry. I'm going out on my own. I'm calling Sebastian first so I can hire him away from them before they get the chance to hire him away from my father, and then the two of them, and my father, and my mother too for that matter, can go fuck themselves.”

Remy smiled at her as she pulled back. “I think you're making the right decision.”

“I think that I should have made this decision years ago,” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “It's terrifying though.”

“I know. So is my upcoming talk with my mother about my father. But it's for the greater good of my life and this is for the greater good of yours.”

“And for the life that we're going to have together,” Marie said, smiling. “And I am really, really looking forward to that life.”

“I am looking forward to that life more than I can possibly put into words,” Remy said, smiling back. “And before we go make these phone calls, I need to give you something. Stay here.”

Remy walked out of the room and Marie turned towards the counter, picking up the mail that Remy had discarded and looking through it. She heard Remy clear his throat behind her a few moments later, and she turned around to find him down on one knee, holding a ring box in his hands. “I was going to just wait and give you the ring on our wedding day, but I can't wait two months to see this on your finger.”

Marie laughed and took a step towards him. “Are you proposing to me again? Because I think you've proposed to me at least fifty times.”

“I don't need to propose anymore,” Remy said, a grin on his face. “You've already said yes.”

Marie dropped down to her knees in front of him. “I should have said yes the first time you asked.”

“No, you had to be ready first,” Remy said, reaching out and taking Marie's left hand. “Close your eyes.”

Marie did as asked and she heard the ring box open before feeling a ring slipped onto her finger. “Are you going to draw this out as long as possible?”

“No. Open your eyes.”

Marie opened her eyes and looked down at her hand, breaking into a grin when she saw the ring. A large diamond was set in the middle, two smaller emeralds on either side of it. “It's beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” Marie said, holding up her hand to see how the stone caught the light. 

Remy breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm so glad you like it. I was worried about the emeralds.”

“I love emeralds. They're my birthstone.” Marie laughed. “There's nothing to worry about. It's perfect.”

Remy reached out and grabbed her hand, drawing her attention to him. “It might be longer than we wanted, but we are going to take the future off the phrase future Mrs. LeBeau and then I am going to make sure that no one ever hurts you again.”

“I don't think you can do that,” Marie said.

“I am definitely going to at least fucking try,” Remy said, shifting closer to her. “I love you so much, Marie. So much more than I can even begin to express.”

Marie leaned forward and brought their lips together, groaning when her phone started to ring. “That's Sebastian.”

“How do you know that?”

“He's got his own ringtone,” Marie said, sighing heavily. “After these phone calls are done, I will gladly show you how much I love you and this ring.”

Remy laughed and helped Marie to her feet. “I cannot wait, future Mrs. LeBeau.”

“Then go make those calls and meet me in the bedroom, Mr. LeBeau.”

“I can do that.”

**********

Bobby opened the door to his house and quickly let John in, slamming the door in the face of the photographers' flashbulbs. “It's been four fucking days! Has there not been something for them to move on to yet?”

“Apparently not,” John said, walking into the sitting room and dropping down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands.

Bobby walked over and sat down next to him, running a hand up and down his back. “How did it go?”

“My parents are motherfucking dicks,” John said, sucking in a deep breath. “They said so much homophobic shit, and they didn't listen when I tried to explain that I'm not gay, I'm bisexual, but I love you more than anything, and by the end of it, both Catherine and I were asked to never come home again.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Bobby said, wrapping his arms around him and putting his forehead on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

“I knew this was going to happen. I fucking knew it. And yet...”

“I know,” Bobby murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I know.”

John turned to look at him. “How did the phone call go?”

“About as well as your visit with your parents did. My mother is apparently going to pray for my soul at the church three times a day until I quit the band, repent my sins, and take the cloth to atone for what I've done.”

John couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. “She wants you to become a priest? Are you fucking serious?”

Bobby chuckled and nodded. “Yup.”

“You'd make an absolutely horrible priest, Drake.” 

“I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be allowed to become one given all of the publicity about the people I've fucked,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “Not to mention all the drinking and rumored drugging.”

“I think my favorite headline from today was about our cocaine-fueled orgies,” John laughed. “My father made it very clear that my drug use was not tolerated either and neither of them would listen to me when I said I didn't do that shit. Neither of them would listen to me about anything.”

“At least you got a word in edgewise, from the sounds of it. My father just asked if it was true, and when I said yes, they went on a seriously homophobic rant that I finally just hung up on.” 

John stared at him for a moment before reaching out and pulling Bobby into a kiss. Bobby quickly deepened it and John sighed happily, smiling when they broke apart. “That right there? That makes everything I just went through worth it.”

Bobby smiled back. “I still can't believe this is actually happening. I'm still afraid I'm going to wake up in the middle of the night and this will all have been a dream.”

“It's not a dream,” John murmured, kissing him again. “I promise you, it's not a dream.”

“Do you remember when I said that the John I fell in love with disappeared after Providence?”

“I'll never forget that for as long as I live.”

“He's starting to come back,” Bobby said softly. “You're never going to be that guy again, too much shit has happened, but aspects of him are starting to show through and prove to me that parts of him never really left. Reminders of why it is I stayed in love, even with as awful as things got.”

“I cannot ever apologize enough for everything I did. I was just so fucking terrified and I know that part of me still is. Probably always will be. But none of that is your fault, and I'm so, so sorry that I treated you like it was.”

“You didn't.”

“No, I really did,” John said seriously. “It's something I've been working on with Alison. Coming to terms with the fact that I was blaming you for what I was feeling instead of taking ownership of it and just letting myself experience it. So in response to that false blame, I tried to do everything I possibly could to get you to leave because I didn't know how to. And I didn't know how to because I really didn't want to. That's why I'd always try so hard to get you back, because you'd try to leave and my false blame would turn into complete and utter terror at the thought of living without you. I refused to admit what that meant though. I refused so much when it came to you and I have so many regrets because of it.”

“Don't,” Bobby said strongly. “Things are starting to get better. That's all that matters.”

“No, it's really not,” John started, but Bobby cut him off with a kiss.

“Johnny, that is all that matters. Things are getting better and I'm starting to think we'll really get there in the end. I promise.”

“I love you, Bobby,” John said softly. “And I should have told you that a long, long time ago.”

“I love you too, Johnny. And it's okay. It's really okay.” Bobby paused for a moment. “Can I ask you a question? It's been on my mind since you asked me the same thing and I am curious to know your answer, if you have one.”

“My curiosity is piqued,” John said. “So ask away.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “When we were on tour, after we'd begun to reconcile things, you asked me how long I've known that this future we've talked about was what I wanted, and I told you Providence. So I want to know how long you've known that this is what you wanted. If you even want it.”

“I want it. I really, really want it,” John said, sitting back and running his hands over his face. “And this is how I know that you really haven't listened to the song completely.”

Bobby frowned slightly. “What?”

“Stay here,” John said, getting up and walking out of the room. 

Bobby watched him disappear down the hallway and come back a moment later with one of Bobby's guitars. “What are you doing?”

“I need you to listen to it this time, okay? All of it.”

Bobby's face spread into a smile. “You're going to play me the song?”

“I'm going to do what I should have done from the very beginning and play you the song,” John said, sitting down on the edge of the table in front of the sofa. “You never should have heard a word of it from that motherfucker's mouth.”

Bobby settled himself against the sofa as John tuned the guitar. “I can't wait to hear it.”

“This is the only time I am ever playing this, okay?”

“Even if I love it?”

John strummed the guitar a couple of times. “Even if you love it. This song has been a complete and utter mistake from start to finish.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that,” Bobby said as John took a deep breath and began to play.

_This is our love song_   
_And it's a secret love too_   
_Only you know this is about you_   
_I can say Providence and you know what I mean_   
_I can't put into words what I feel when you sing_   
_The song that night is always stuck in my head_   
_And every time I hear it thoughts of you take over_   
_That night there wasn't a stage, only you and your guitar_   
_And I knew in that moment you were born to be a star_   
_Then came the night I could no longer resist_   
_When I gave into want and we had that kiss_   
_Waking up the next morning was terrifying and great_   
_Because the sunlight caught your hair_   
_And then you smiled that smile_   
_There are things that are so far out of our control_   
_And a whole lot of troubles that I know I'm responsible for_   
_But I can say Providence and you know what I mean_   
_I can't go a day without hearing you sing_   
_So many nights I wish I could take almost everything back_   
_Do things right from the start, making up for what I've lacked_   
_Because the truth is I've known for so very long_   
_Since that night when I heard you sing that song_   
_The moment when I knew what things could really be_   
_But the heartache you feel is all because of me_   
_I know you question things all the time_   
_Know that I should do so much more to ensure that you're mine_   
_Let you know that I could spend the rest of my life by your side_   
_Have you next to me on this incredibly crazy ride_   
_I wish you could hear what I'm saying with these few lines_   
_And understand how much I need you to be mine_   
_I love you more than words could ever say_   
_And the best part of wanting you is seeing you every day_   
_So this is our love song_   
_And it's a secret love too_   
_Only you will ever know that this is about you_   
_I just hope that one day you'll believe that I love you too_

John finished playing and set the guitar to the side. “I know it's shit, but I didn't know how else to say it.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “That long? Really?”

John just nodded. “I'm so, so, so sorry. You deserved so, so, so much better from me for so, so, so long.”

Bobby sat there for a moment. “What song was it I sang? And when?”

“ _Something_ , the Beatles song, four months after we met,” John said softly. “I don't know why, but I felt like you were singing it specifically for me.”

“I probably was. I used to pick songs to sing when we were fucking around during rehearsals that might make you smile. You were having a hard time dealing with your parents then and I just thought that maybe a song might make things a little better.”

John smiled. “You've never told me that.”

“You changed so much after that first night,” Bobby said quietly. “I was more concerned about trying to get you back to how you were before and I didn't want to scare you away.”

“I'm sorry,” John whispered. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“Come here,” Bobby said, and John moved across to the sofa.

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Bobby murmured. “Just kiss me.”

John hesitated so Bobby lunged forward and captured his lips in a deep kiss. By the time they broke apart, Bobby had a smile on his face. “I hope you know that I'm going to make you play that song for me again.”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I want to block that song from my memory.”

“That song means a lot, Johnny.”

“That song was a mistake from the moment I started writing it. I should have just said that stuff to you.”

“I don't think that song was a mistake,” Bobby said, standing up and reaching for John's hand. “And I'd like to go show you how much I enjoyed it.”

John let Bobby take his hand and pull him up. “You really liked it?”

“I really liked it.”

“It's shit. I'm terrible at writing songs.”

“I love every song you've ever written,” Bobby said, leading him towards the bedroom. “You should let the band record some of them.”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “They're too personal.”

“So are some of mine. That's not a bad thing,” Bobby stated, pulling him into the bedroom and kicking the door shut. “Now take off those clothes and let's remind each other why everything we went through this afternoon was worth it.”

“I can do that.”


	33. Chapter 33

“Erik, I cannot even begin to tell you how mad I am that I have to be here right now,” Remy said as he walked into the room. “Marie's first date in court in the cases her and that fucking lunatic have against each other is this morning and now I have to be here instead.”

“I am well aware of what's happening this morning. Charles was telling me all about it. And I'm mad about the fact that you're going to be portrayed as someone who didn't care enough to be there for your fiancée at such an important event, so just sit down and shut up,” Erik said firmly, pointing to the open seat next to Kitty.

“What are we even here for?” Kitty asked. “You said we got a month's break before we had to have any fucking meetings.”

“This did not come from me,” Erik said as Scott and Sean entered the room. “This came from the label.”

“The motherfucking label is why we're here?” Peter asked as he walked into the room. “My wife is about to leave to go shoot a film in Croatia for the next six weeks and instead of spending the last full day we'll get together for months with her and my daughter, because she's off to Italy and then Chile after that, I have to fucking be here because of the motherfucking label?”

“That motherfucking label is the reason you have your wife so sit down and shut up,” Erik said, glancing at his watch. “Where are the rest of you motherfuckers?”

“Come on, Erik. You had to have expected John and Bobby to be late,” Kitty said. “They can't walk out their doors without being surrounded by snaps.”

“Yes, and I still want to kill them about that,” Erik said, sighing heavily. “I really am happy for them. Really. I just wasn't anticipating this ever happening.”

“Don't worry, Erik. No one but Kitty did,” Sean said, making Erik look over at her.

“What is he talking about, Kitty?”

Kitty just sighed. “I won the bet because I bet that they'd go public someday. No one else was willing to bet that they would.”

Erik let a laugh escape him. “You all bet on this?”

“Of course we did,” Scott said. “We bet on everything. You know that.”

“And what is the current bet about then?” Erik asked.

“What Marie's wedding dress is going to look like, I believe,” Remy said, shaking his head when Sean and Peter groaned. “What, did you think I didn't know about that?”

“You weren't supposed to!” Sean exclaimed.

“It's fine, guys. Besides, I think you'll all lose.”

“Do not even get me started on how angry I am over this wedding of yours,” Erik muttered. “Not even going to tell me.”

“We were going to tell you,” Remy said, rolling his eyes. “And we did tell you.”

“Only after a magazine dictated what day you're getting married.”

“What is he talking about, Remy?” Kitty asked, making Remy sigh.

“We were waiting until we had an actual date to tell you guys,” Remy said, turning towards everyone. “Sebastian and Emma said it would be good publicity for us to have _Vanity Fair_ cover the wedding, so in order to accommodate that, the wedding has been postponed by two months. Once the actual date is set, you all will be the first to know.”

“I'm sorry,” Kitty said, smiling at him. “I know you wanted to get married as soon as possible.”

“It's fine,” Remy said. “It'll give us more time to get the wedding planned so it's the way we want it. Things were getting a bit rushed.”

“I bet,” Peter said. “Planning a wedding is fucking hard work.”

“I echo those sentiments,” Scott said. “And Jean hardly needed my input for ours.”

“Yeah, well, when you get the day figured out, put me down for me plus one,” Sean said, running his hands over his face. “Fuck.”

Everyone looked over at him and Peter was the first to speak. “Who is your plus one?”

“Moira,” Sean said, taking a deep breath. “We're working things out, I think. Either that or we're just being fucking morons again, but we're actually like talking this time, so that's better than it was before.”

Kitty reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “I think that's great, Sean. You two always were well suited for each other.”

“Moira,” Erik sighed. “We just get through the media shitshow that was the end of your relationship and now you're working it out. Sometimes I wonder why I even try.”

“Erik, you cannot dictate our lives, no matter how much you try to,” Bobby said he walked into the room, John right behind him.

“Oh, do not even get me started on you two motherfuckers,” Erik said through gritted teeth. “Sit the fuck down.”

“What is this all about?” John asked as they sat down. “Because I was told that we were getting a month's break.”

“Yes, well, that was before Howlett called me,” Erik said, looking up when there was a knock at the door to see his secretary standing there. “I'll be right back.”

“Howlett?” Bobby asked. “This is about the label?”

“Apparently so,” Remy said, running his hands over his face. “God, I wish I knew what was going on with Marie at the moment.”

“So text her,” Kitty said.

“She told me she was turning her phone off while they were in the courtroom.”

“Courtroom?” Scott asked.

“This morning is the first court date over this whole Douglas Ramsey motherfucking lunacy,” Remy stated. “And I hate the fact that I'm here instead of with her.”

“It'll be okay,” Bobby said, looking over at him. “She was prepared for whatever was going to happen today, or so she said.”

“I'm not sure that's the truth. She's never prepared for anything when it comes to him,” Remy said, shaking his head. “I want that lousy motherfucker out of our lives.”

“He will be,” Kitty said softly. “The legal process just has to play out now. Charles is a great lawyer. He'll make sure that things go the way they need to go.”

“I hope so,” Remy murmured as Erik walked back into the room with their label representative. “Logan.”

“Remy,” Logan said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from the band. “Alright, here's the deal. Your studio time begins again in two weeks. You will have no longer than four months to make your next album, because the album is going to be released in six months, and right after that the first leg of the tour is going to start.”

“First leg?” John questioned.

“First leg,” Logan responded.

“So how many legs are there?” Scott asked.

“Eight,” Logan said, and the band's eyes all widened.

“Eight?” Peter eventually said.

“Yes,” Logan said firmly. “This is your first worldwide tour. That means that you're playing on six different continents. You'll start in Latin America, then Europe, then hit North America. After that is a couple of shows in South Africa, followed by Australia and New Zealand, and then Asia. And when all of that is done, you'll do Latin America, Europe, and North America again, because we just cannot fit all of the needed cities and dates into the first three legs.”

They all sat there in shock for a while before Sean spoke. “Holy fuck.”

“You really think that we can sell out that many shows?” Kitty asked. “Because that's got to be a fucking lot of shows.”

“It's a hundred and twenty-five shows,” Erik said. 

“Are you actually telling me that we can sell out a HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE shows around the world?” Remy asked. 

“Yes, I am,” Erik said. “And you all really need to read my emails if you're still questioning how your sales are doing around the world.”

“Erik mentioned the other day that we have three of the top ten albums in Australia at the moment,” Bobby murmured. “So I went and read the fucking emails. He's right. Sales around the world are incredible right now. We've got a number one in at least twelve different countries at the moment.”

“This is insanity,” Peter laughed. “Good insanity, but insanity.”

“Are we ever going to get a fucking break?” Sean asked. “Because we haven't had a break in a really long time. And I mean longer than a fucking month between a tour and the start of studio work.”

“After this tour is over, you all will get a lengthy break,” Logan said. “I promise. Everyone at the label is aware of the fact that you cannot keep working at this pace forever. But you have to understand that it's important to roll out the worldwide tour while you're this hot.”

“How long am I going to be away from my wife and daughter?” Scott asked. “I can already tell it's longer than I want it to be if there are that many shows involved.”

“You'll get a month's break in between the first and second legs,” Logan said. “Then two weeks off before the third leg, a two-month break before the fourth, and another two months before the fifth. After the fifth leg, you're getting another two months off before the sixth leg, then two weeks before the seventh, and then a month off before the final leg. So you'll be getting lots of time off.”

“That still doesn't tell me how long this tour is going to be,” Scott said. “How long is this tour?”

“The tour begins next year at the end of March,” Erik said carefully. “It will end in the middle of November the following year.”

The band stared at him for a few moments before Scott found his voice. “Two years. You want me to be away from my wife and daughter for two motherfucking years.”

“Jean and Rachel are welcome any time,” Erik said seriously. “And they can stay for as long as they want whenever they come. If it wasn't for the fact that I know it isn't possible, I'd say that they could come for the entire thing. Same with Crystal and Luna, Peter. I know that asking the two of you to be away from your daughters for that long is an incredibly difficult thing, but it's something that cannot be avoided.”

Scott took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. “So you're saying that if I can make it happen, Jean and Rachel could be with us throughout the entire tour?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying,” Erik said. “I'm not in the business of breaking up families, Scott.”

“Then I guess I will be talking to Jean about that,” Scott said, running his hands over his face. “Fuck.”

“At least you've got the possibility of that happening,” Peter said sadly. “Crystal's already got her next three films lined up. I don't have that possibility at all.”

“As I said, there will be breaks in between the legs,” Logan said, drawing their attention back to him. “You will have time to spend with your families.”

“I suppose you're going to ask me to leave Marie behind as well,” Remy said, drawing Erik's attention to him. 

“No, I'm not,” he said firmly. “But I am going to tell you that any fucking time she has to be here for anything that will get this Douglas Ramsey bullshit to go away, she better fucking be here.”

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Remy said. “She will be here for absolutely anything she has to be that helps to make that fucking lunatic disappear from her life.”

Logan stood up. “I will be in touch with details. But you all better make the best album in the history of the world in the next four months. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” the band said at the same time. 

“Good,” Logan said as Erik stood, and then they walked out of the room together.

“Holy fuck,” John exclaimed once they were gone. “We going to tour the fucking world.”

“I know Erik mentioned that before, but I never thought it was an actual possibility,” Kitty said, laughing. “I think we've officially made it, boys.”

“This is fucking crazy,” Sean said, shaking his head. “My aunt's going to lose her mind over this.”

“You'll have to fly her out for a few shows,” Remy said. “It's been a while since we've seen her.”

“Definitely,” Sean said. “She's going to be thrilled for us.”

“Do you think you can really talk Jean into abandoning everything here and touring around the world?” Peter asked Scott. “Because she's made it clear before that she doesn't want to just follow us around from city to city.”

“That was before Rachel,” Scott said. “But I have no idea if I can or not. She's not going to be happy about this, that's for sure.”

“Crystal's not going to be too thrilled either, but I think she'll be happy for us at the same time. It's Luna I'm worried about. She barely understood why I had to leave last time. Who knows what will happen when it comes to this.”

“At least you'll be coming home for a bit every once and a while,” Bobby said. “It won't be two straight years away from her.”

Erik poked his head back into the room. “Go the fuck home and try not to make any more headlines on your way there, alright?”

Everyone laughed and stood up. “We'll do our best!” Kitty called out.

“Remy,” Bobby said, drawing his attention to him. “Make sure Marie calls me later so I can hear about how the court date went.”

“I will,” Remy said, heading towards the door. “But I have to find out first.”

**********

“Well,” Marie said the moment she walked in the room, “the judge ordered a psych evaluation.”

Remy looked up from the kitchen table and smiled. “That's great.”

“For both of us,” Marie finished. “Doug has to have a psych evaluation, but so do I.”

“What the fuck for?” Remy exclaimed. “He's the fucking insane one!”

“His lawyer is insisting that I am resisting him because I am off of my medication and that Doug is just trying to help me stabilize myself. Charles told the judge that that's fucking bullshit, but the judge ordered evaluations for both of us,” Marie said, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Remy. “Whatever. I will go through the psych evaluation and it'll be fine. I'm not the fucking crazy one.”

Remy reached out and took Marie's hand, bringing it up to kiss. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

“It's alright,” Marie said, putting her head on Remy's shoulder. “I actually think that might have made it worse. Doug's lawyer was already commenting on how rebellious I'm being and that you were leading me down a path of destruction while Doug was just trying to help guide me back to the light.”

“Fucking hell,” Remy muttered. “God, I hope this psych evaluation he does finds something.”

“Charles presented the question of Doug stalking me to the court. Mentioned that after I moved in with you he had no idea where we lived and then suddenly he showed up at our door. He had to have found that out somehow and, when asked, Doug's lawyer said it was because he followed me here. That's some seriously stalkerish behavior.”

“He motherfucking followed you here?” Remy growled. “I want to kill him so badly.”

“So do I, trust me,” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “Both of us also have to undergo drug tests because Doug is claiming you've got me addicted to heroin.”

“What the fuck? Where did he come up with that bullshit?”

“He knew I used to do a bit of cocaine and that I smoke,” Marie said. “I think I'm fine because I haven't done coke since months before we found each other again and Charles told me that the judge won't freak out if all the tests find is a bit of marijuana.” 

“Well, you're definitely not smoking again until after that test,” Remy declared. “I don't want anything to show up on it.”

“I wasn't going to smoke until after the test. I have to go have that next Tuesday, and then the psych evaluation is with someone named Alison Blaire next Friday.”

“Alison Blaire?” Remy asked. “That's John's therapist.”

Marie tilted her head towards him. “What?”

“John's been talking to me while Bobby's away from him. He mentioned her name to me and said that's who he's been working with.”

“Well, she must be a psychologist and not just a therapist then, because that's who the court ordered me to see,” Marie said. “I'll ask John when we go over there tonight.”

“What?”

“Bobby and John invited us to John's place for dinner tonight. We're going.”

“There's going to be a fuck ton of snaps around there.”

“Yes, well, it's time to start showing that the band supports them,” Marie said seriously. “The snaps apparently followed them when they went over to Sean's after your meeting this morning. Speaking of which, what was the meeting about?”

“The meeting was with Erik and Logan, our label rep,” Remy said, breaking out into a smile. “We're heading back into the studio for the next four months and then starting at the end of March, we're touring the fucking world. The _world_ , Marie.”

Marie turned and brought their lips together in a deep kiss. “That sounds amazing, Remy. I'm so proud of you.”

Remy laughed. “I honestly came home after that meeting and wondered if this is all a dream. Like I'm going to wake up and it'll be the morning of the mystery gig and none of this will have happened or is going to happen. And then I slapped myself really hard to make sure it was real, and it was.”

“It's definitely real,” Marie said, kissing him again. “But I understand what you mean about feeling like this is all a dream. I have moments like that too.”

“So are you ready to tour the world with me, future Mrs. LeBeau?” Remy asked, grinning.

“I will gladly tour the world with you, Mr. LeBeau,” Marie said, grinning. “The day after we're married I'm going to get all my accounts changed to Anna Marie LeBeau. I'm going to seriously love doing that.”

Remy gave her a confused look. “Anna Marie? Why did you just call yourself Anna Marie?”

Marie laughed. “Have I really seriously never told you that Marie is my middle name?”

“No, you haven't,” Remy said seriously. “Marie is your middle name? Really?”

“Really,” Marie said, smiling at him. “I only found out about the explanation of it five years ago so I guess I just never thought to explain it to you because I never knew. Anyway, my father wanted me to be named Marie but my mother wanted me to be named Anna. So they compromised with Anna Marie. My father demanded that I be called Marie though and, well, Priscilla knew better than to go against him on that. So I am Marie and not Anna.”

“I can't believe I didn't know that.”

“I don't think I know what your middle name is, come to think of it.”

“Etienne. My grandfather's name,” Remy said. “Jean-Luc's dad. He died before I was born so they honored him by giving me his name.”

“That's really sweet,” Marie said. “I don't think we should do that with our kids though. Well, maybe with Annabella's name, but not any of the others.”

“I completely agree with that, though I'm not sure about using my mother's name.”

“Annabella would love it if we did that,” Marie pointed out. 

“I know she would, but I'm afraid of what my father would think if we didn't use his name too,” Remy said quietly. 

“What happened to not caring about him anymore?” Marie asked.

“Mama asked me to reconsider my decision to stop talking to him after the wedding,” Remy said, sighing. “She said that even though things between us aren't great, he's still my father and he should be in my life.”

“I really love your mother, Remy, but that's complete bullshit,” Marie said firmly. “If Jean-Luc is a negative presence in your life, then get the fuck rid of his presence. That's what I'm doing with my family.”

“I think Mama thinks it's a good thing for you to do that and not such a good thing for me. She's more worried about what's going to happen to Dad than me, to be perfectly honest. She seems to think he'll be really affected by it.”

“Maybe he would be. Maybe it will make him see how he really treats you and get him to change his ways.”

“Dad is not going to change his ways, Marie. I know him well enough to know that for a fact.”

“Maybe a grandchild will soften him,” Marie said softly. “Because we can't keep our kids away from Annabella and you know she's going to want to involve Jean-Luc in that.”

Remy sighed heavily. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. What time are we supposed to be at John's?”

Marie shook her head but dug her phone out of her bag, clicking through to the text message. “In forty-five minutes, so we better leave now.”

Remy stood up and reached for Marie's hand. “I don't want to go complain to them about things, so we're just going to talk about them, alright?”

“We're going to talk about the album and tour too,” Marie said, letting Remy help her up. “Bobby said he's already written twenty new songs.”

“Twenty?” Remy asked, heading to get his wallet and keys. “We've been home for a week.”

“He said he's been really inspired,” Marie said, following him out of the room. “I suppose this means things are going well with John, which is good.”

“As I told you before, Bobby's at his best when he's with John. I think you're just starting to see it.”

“I guess so. Hurry up so we're not too late.”

“Yes, ma'am.”


	34. Chapter 34

Emma set the magazine down in front of Bobby and sighed. “It's coming out on Friday, they've already sent out copies to subscribers, it'll probably hit the website tomorrow, and there's absolutely no way I can stop this from happening.”

Bobby picked up the magazine and swallowed hard. “Who did they talk to?”

Emma took a deep breath before speaking. “Your brother.”

Bobby dropped the magazine onto the table. “What?”

Emma picked up the magazine and flipped through it until she found the article, then shoved it in front of Bobby again. “He was all too willing to talk to them about you. There's so much stuff in this article that I have no idea what's true and what's not. You're going to have to read it and tell me.”

Bobby blinked several times before he reached for the magazine, his eyes scanning the salacious text at the beginning. “He talked about my entire life?”

“Seems to be the case,” Emma said softly. “As I said, I have no idea what's true or not.”

Bobby kept reading. “I definitely did not fool around with guys when I was in high school,” he said bitterly. “And I definitely didn't get into a fight with the head cheerleader over the captain of the football team.”

“No offense, Bobby, but that's not exactly the stuff I'm talking about,” Emma said. “Turn the page.”

Bobby flipped the page and let his mouth drop in shock. “How the fuck did they get these pictures?”

“They came from your brother.”

“Ronny never had these pictures,” Bobby said firmly. “No one but me had these pictures. Not even John.”

Emma drummed her fingers against the table. “Does your brother have a key to your house?” she eventually asked. “Because if he does, he could have gone looking for stuff.”

“Fuck,” Bobby said, dropping the magazine and burying his head in his hands. “I bet if I go look for these they're not there.”

“I can't get much out of them about when they talked to your brother, but I got enough to know they're kicking themselves for not printing this sooner because it's not the exclusive revelation of your relationship anymore.”

Bobby kept his head in his hands as he took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down. “It had to have started when the first articles popped up. Ronny called me and wanted to know what was going on and I told him not to worry about them. I didn't deny it. He must have picked up on that and decided to go looking.”

“I'm sorry, Bobby. I really am. But I need to figure out how to handle the shitshow that's going to come from this and so I need you to read it and tell me what's true and what's not.” Emma looked up when she heard Bobby's front door open, shaking her head when she heard the photographers yelling outside. “I think John just got here.”

Bobby didn't move so Emma stood up and walked out of the kitchen, finding John in the sitting room. “Emma! What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Bobby's in the kitchen and you need to see something,” Emma said, turning and walking back to where Bobby was sitting, head still in his hands. 

John walked into the kitchen and sat down next to him. “Bobby?”

“I fucking hate my brother,” Bobby mumbled and John gave Emma a confused look.

Emma just shoved the magazine in front of John. “Bobby's brother has given _US Weekly_ an interview and he apparently stole these pictures of you two from here. We think it happened while you guys were still in Europe.”

John picked up the magazine and immediately dropped it back to the table. “Fuck.”

Emma just nodded. “I just found out today and it's coming out on Friday.”

“Today's Wednesday!” John exclaimed before turning his attention to Bobby. “Drake, look at me.”

Bobby didn't move, so John slid his chair closer and wrapped an arm around Bobby's shoulders. “Drake, look at me, please. This could be a lot worse.”

“There are pictures of us in bed together in a motherfucking magazine and you're telling me things could be worse?” Bobby exclaimed, turning his head until he was looking at John. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Bobby, you know that we have taken pictures that are way worse than us laying on a bed shirtless,” John said softly. 

“Fuck!” Bobby exclaimed, immediately standing up and walking out of the room. 

“Bobby?” John called out but Bobby just kept walking.

“I'll be right back!”

John took a deep breath and picked up the magazine again. “How bad is the article?”

“Full of bullshit, I presume,” Emma said. “But I need Bobby to read it and tell me what's true and what isn't. His brother gave them a ton of information and they chucked it all into that article.”

Emma jumped when she heard something hit a wall hard and John immediately stood up. “Stay here.”

He walked out of the room and down the hallway, stopping at Bobby's music room when he heard something else hit the wall from inside it. He tried the door but found it locked, so he knocked on it with their secret knock. It took a few moments but Bobby opened the door, and John walked inside and locked the door behind him. “Talk to me, Bobby.”

“The box I kept all the pictures of you and me in is gone,” Bobby said, kicking a box across the room into the stand of a guitar, not reacting when the guitar crashed down to the floor.

John just shook his head and walked over to it, picking the guitar up and examining it before setting it back on the stand. “So all of the pictures are gone?”

“Every fucking one of them,” Bobby said, the anger leaving his voice as he sat down on the piano bench. “Johnny, some of those pictures...”

“I know, babe,” John said, sitting down next to him. “But things could still be a lot worse.”

“How?” Bobby said softly. “How could things be a lot worse?”

“Well, we could have made a sex tape that your brother would have found,” John said, making Bobby chuckle. “So you were completely right that we shouldn't do that when I brought up the idea.”

“What was it I said again? I don't want to watch us fuck, I'd rather just fuck?”

“Something similar to that, I believe,” John said. “Yes, those are pictures that should have never been made public. But there's nothing that horrible in them.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “We should have never taken those pictures. We should have been more careful.”

“We were careful,” John murmured. “We took those pictures years ago before we were famous.”

“And they have the fucking date on them because that's how that fucking camera worked,” Bobby groaned, putting his head in his hands again. “Fuck.”

“They were always going to figure out how long we've been together,” John said. “We knew that.”

“Yes, eventually,” Bobby said, running his hands over his face. “ _Eventually._ I can't take all of this at once and it's been a nonstop barrage of everything ever since that fucking bitch sold that picture to the fucking _Post_. God, we still have so much shit to work out between us because everything still isn't better and now the entire fucking world is disapproving of what we are doing with each other and I just cannot fucking handle this.”

“The entire fucking world is not disapproving of us,” John said. “They're more obsessed for details than anything else.”

Bobby didn't respond and John took a deep breath. “Have you talked with Robert about it?” he asked carefully. “Because this is something you should be talking about with him.”

“He's on a month-long vacation in fucking Fiji with his wife for their fiftieth anniversary,” Bobby snapped. “And I know that I shouldn't be bitter about that but I fucking am. I'd like to go to some secluded tropical island right now just to escape this bullshit. And then I'd never leave.”

John laughed. “You'd come back for the studio work and you know it. You love it when we're in the studio. And when we're on tour. Fuck, you even love doing the television and radio appearances. You love everything about being in this band.”

Bobby sucked in a shuddering breath. “I can't do this, Johnny. I just can't. We need to deny that it's happening.”

“It's too late for that, babe,” John said, sliding closer to him. “It's far, far too late for that.”

“If I ever see James Madrox again, I will not be responsible for my actions because I'm going to kill him. And his wife. She's going to die too.”

“You will do no such thing,” John admonished. “No matter how angry we are with them, we cannot let them know that we know it was them. We will be professionally polite and nothing more. But I'm going to do everything I possibly can to avoid the two of them for the rest of time. Thank fuck they live in Los Angeles and not here. I couldn't take randomly running into them on the street or in a restaurant.”

“They moved back here,” Bobby mumbled. “The fucking bitch was telling me about it in Paris.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I'm not kidding you over any of this.”

John muttered a few words under his breath before standing up. “Come on, we need to go tell Emma there's going to be more pictures of us in bed together coming.”

“Us in bed together, us kissing, you with your hands all over me,” Bobby murmured. “So many pictures.”

“It's going to be okay,” John said, reaching for Bobby's hand. “We're going to get through this. I promise.”

Bobby let John help him up and he pulled John into a deep kiss. “I just want you to know that I believe you when you promise me things now. It's been a long time since I've been able to say that.”

John broke into a grin. “So that's progress.”

“That's progress,” Bobby confirmed. “We're making a lot of progress going through this. But things are still not completely better.”

“I don't know if they ever will be,” John said. “I hurt you too much.”

“It was worth it,” Bobby whispered. “You've always been worth it.”

John stood there as Bobby walked towards the door, opening it and walking out of the room. He took a few deep breaths and then started to follow him, but all he could think about was how he was the biggest motherfucking douchebag in the history the planet and he was never, ever going to forgive himself for hurting Bobby so badly.

**********

As soon as the door of the penthouse was shut, Jubilee turned to Marie. “Bobby called me.”

Marie stared at her for a moment. “ _Bobby_ called you? Don't you mean John?”

“No, I mean Bobby,” Jubilee said, walking towards the kitchen. “He wants to meet for lunch and to clear the air between us.”

“Isn't that a good thing?” Marie asked, following her. “I'd think that's a good thing.”

“Yeah, well, I don't particularly want to be photographed with Bobby fucking Drake in a restaurant in the middle of the shitshow my father's going through,” Jubilee said, looking in cabinets. “I'm furious with him enough. There were fucking photographers waiting for me outside my building this morning.”

“What are you talking about? And what are you looking for? There's nothing here.”

“You haven't heard about my father getting caught fucking one of his interns? It's been all over the news,” Jubilee said, opening another cabinet and letting out a mock cheer. “Here it is. Theresa stashed it so I didn't know where it was.”

“Stashed what? And no, I haven't heard about your father,” Marie said, shaking her head when Jubilee pulled a bottle of whiskey and two glasses out of the cabinet. “What the fuck is that here for?”

“Oh, like we were going to do all this wedding stuff without drinks,” Jubilee said, setting the glasses down and opening up the bottle. “You can't honestly tell me that.”

Marie let out a small laugh. “I'm not going to say that. I mean, when do we do anything that doesn't involve drinks? But stop talking about this and get back to your father. He got caught fucking an intern?”

“Yes,” Jubilee said, pouring the whiskey into a glass and sliding the glass across the counter. “Here. Anyway, my mother is predictably furious and is currently staying at the Waldorf Astoria because she refuses to stay at the penthouse, even though my father isn't staying there at the moment. My parents have been having problems for a while but I think this finally broke it for good.”

“So why were there photographers outside your building this morning? You're not involved in any of this.”

“Oh, they were there because the bitch that my father's been fucking did an interview with the _Daily News_ and told them that I knew all about it, which I definitely didn't. She's claiming that we're like best friends and have been regularly meeting up for lunches and dinners and I've been letting her and my father use my apartment for their sexual escapades,” Jubilee said bitterly. “I have never met this fucking teenager in my life and I certainly wouldn't lend out my apartment for them to fuck in.”

“Fucking hell,” Marie said, sipping at her drink. “What a bitch.”

“So I'm about to call my father and yell at him about this fucking interview and this entire situation, right? And before I can do that, this news alert about the thing pops up on my phone and it's about how they've gotten their hands on the paperwork for the apartment that they've caught him and this bitch going in and out of, and the motherfuckers put it in my name!”

“How the fuck did I miss the fact that this was happening?” Marie asked, reaching out and squeezing Jubilee's hand. “Oh honey, I don't even know what to say.”

“I'm now considered this completely heartless bitch who helped my father cheat on my mother and I am not motherfucking happy about it. But do you understand why I don't want to be seen having lunch with Bobby fucking Drake right now? Someone is going to connect me to John because of it, and then someone is going to figure out that I'm one of John's exes, and I really am having a hard enough time with the fucking media right now.”

“I completely understand that,” Marie said as Jubilee drained her drink and poured herself another. “Please don't get drunk.”

“I'm not going to,” Jubilee said firmly. “I just need to get buzzed.”

“That's fine, honey. I don't know what to tell you about this Bobby situation though. I really think it's important that you two meet and clear the air. I don't want things to be uncomfortable between you when we're all together.”

“I don't either. So I have a potential solution but you're part of it.”

Marie polished off her drink and waved off Jubilee when she tried to pour her another. “What is this solution?”

“Bobby and I meet at your place,” Jubilee said, taking a long sip. “It wouldn't be unusual for either of us to be seen there and I know that photographers are following our every move at the moment. Bobby would be considered to be there to see Remy and I would be considered to be there to see you. That way Bobby and I can be at the same place at the same time and not have to do this in front of fifty photographers.”

Marie pondered that for a moment. “That's a really good idea, actually.”

“I am capable of coming up with good ideas,” Jubilee said sarcastically.

“I'm not trying to say you're not,” Marie laughed. “But what are Remy and I supposed to do during this conversation of yours?”

“I'm thinking that maybe you could just be like in a different room? Or maybe upstairs? Just in case I need you,” Jubilee said, sighing. “I'm terribly afraid of how this is going to go. I know that I was part of something that hurt him badly.”

“I don't think he would be wanting to meet to clear the air if he didn't think it could be resolved peacefully,” Marie said. “Bobby's not the kind of guy that just screams and yells at everyone and everything.”

“I know, but...” Jubilee trailed off for a few moments. “John told me that I was different. There had been a number of girls over the years but I was different. I asked him to elaborate on that and it took him a lot of rambling before I thought I figured out what he was trying to say. John didn't use the fuck out of me. He connected with me. He wanted to be with me. He wanted me around and, even though we don't fuck anymore, he still wants me to be around. I mean, he's called me ten times since that picture hit the papers. We're friends. But I still didn't understand. Then I was sitting there fuming over my father and this affair last night, and I finally realized what John really meant. I was the other woman, Marie. I was the one John cheated on Bobby with. The groupies were one thing. I was something very, very different.”

“Fuck,” Marie said, putting her head down on the counter. “I never, ever thought of it like that before.”

“So now do you see why I'm so afraid of how this conversation with Bobby is going to go and why I desperately don't want to have it in public? And I really don't want to be seen going over to his house either. The last thing I need right now is to be caught up in their scandal.”

Marie lifted her head and nodded. “You can do it at our house. I'll explain things to Remy. He'll understand.”

“Thank you,” Jubilee said, relaxing against the counter. “I'm starting to think that going on tour with them for a little while was the worst thing I could have possibly done. I should have just waited and met the band when you got back to New York. I feel so awful about what I did to Bobby.”

“John's the one who did that to Bobby, not you,” Marie said, standing up. “I think that what happened between them had been coming for a very long time. You just ended up being the catalyst. He might actually be grateful for that, honestly. John's acting like a fucking adult now. Bobby is much happier than he was during that tour.”

“John said that Bobby's not handling this public exposure of their relationship well.”

“No, he's not. I think he's more affected by the fact that it was his brother that did this latest round of motherfucking nonsense than anything else. Bobby was very close to his family despite the fact that he was hiding his relationship with John from them.”

“John told me to pick up the issue just to get an idea of what they were dealing with, and oh boy, I can completely understand why Bobby's pissed,” Jubilee said, sighing. “John told me that the article is bullshit but those pictures...”

“And they aren't the only pictures,” Marie said. “More are coming.”

“Fuck,” Jubilee murmured, running a hand through her hair. “I wish I didn't have to make Bobby relive everything that happened right now then. Do you think that he'd go for it if I suggested that we wait until the furor has died down?”

“I think you'd be waiting forever then. The media is not going to leave them alone. Ever, most likely. Maybe someday if the band stops making music, but Remy told me that unless something seriously disrupts band chemistry, they've always wanted to be that really long lasting band, sort of like the Rolling Stones. Still rocking out stadiums fifty years later, you know what I mean?”

“You up for that?” Jubilee asked. “Because Theresa heard from Alexander that your father is calling you a professional groupie now.”

Marie just rolled her eyes. “Of course he is. And what the fuck is Theresa doing talking to Alexander?”

“Alexander got in contact with her in an attempt to get you to change your mind about cutting him and Henry out of your life,” Jubilee said, laughing. “Theresa pretty much told him to fuck off after the point of the conversation became clear. Don't worry about it.”

“That fucking prick,” Marie fumed. “He better not harass Theresa now.”

“He won't, don't worry. She told me that if he calls her again she's going to get her number changed. He has apparently already called her from four different phone numbers so trying to screen it isn't working.”

Marie just shook her head and pushed away from the counter, reaching for her phone. “I'm half tempted to call him right now just to fucking bitch him out about doing this.”

“Don't fucking do that,” Jubilee said firmly. “He'll think he won.”

“I'm not going to,” Marie said, shaking her head. “I'm texting Theresa to apologize for him doing this.”

“You don't have to do that. She's not mad.”

“Still doing it,” Marie said, typing away on her phone before letting out a frustrated scream. “Alright, we've got an hour before I have to go meet Charles, so let's get down to what we really came here for, alright? You've got to help me figure out what to do with this altar. It's got to look good in professional photographs in a magazine now.”

“I can do that.”


	35. Chapter 35

Bobby walked into John's apartment muttering about photographers as John shut the door. “I didn't think there were that many of them outside when I went to get the mail.”

“I mean the ones that followed me over to Remy's,” Bobby said, shaking his head and sitting down on the sofa.

John joined him and gave him a confused look. “What did you go over to Remy's for?”

Bobby swallowed hard. “I wanted to have a conversation with someone about something so I called them up and asked them to meet me. This person is also currently being hounded by photographers so it was decided we would meet at Remy and Marie's because we would both be seen to have been there for other reasons than this conversation.”

John stared at him for a moment before it clicked. “Jubilee. You went and had a conversation with Jubilee.”

“Yes,” Bobby said softly. “I just had some things that I needed to know and I thought you wouldn't tell me the truth.”

John settled back against the sofa and shook his head. “I told you that I'd tell you the truth about anything.”

“I know. But I didn't know if I could trust that on this subject,” Bobby said. “I mean, it was pretty obvious during the tour that you were falling in love with her.”

“No,” John said strongly, reaching out and turning Bobby's chin so he was looking at him. “I was not falling in love with her. I am not in love with her. Do not ever think otherwise.”

“You don't have to lie to me, Johnny. It's okay.”

“It's not okay that you think I was falling in love with someone else and I am not lying,” John said firmly.

“Fine,” Bobby said, shaking John's hand away. “I only went and talked to her so that I can be in the same room as her and not think about the fact that you fucked her a lot, okay? I barely know her because I avoided the hell out of her during the tour since she became such a thing with you. I wanted nothing to do with her or the situation and I just wanted to know what it was about her that drew you away from me.”

“I won't say that I don't understand why you feel that way because I do. I would just like to explain to you why you are wrong.”

“You cheated on me with her, John. I am not wrong.”

John let his eyes close and he took a deep breath. “Yes, I cheated on you with her. I am intelligent enough to realize that this was different than any of the groupies or my brief flings with models. But you're still wrong.”

“Then explain this to me, please, because I definitely don't know why I'm wrong.”

John took another deep breath. “Jubilee is the first woman that I have ever connected with. I mean really, truly connected with. It was that connection that led me to want more than one night with her. I fully admit that. And I understand now that the more time I spent with her, the more you felt threatened and eventually replaced. But that was never my intent. I never ever wanted to hurt you like that.”

“It was nothing more than I'd been expecting,” Bobby said softly. “I always knew that you were going to meet the right woman and leave me when she came along. I just honestly thought at the time that was the moment I'd been expecting yet dreading.”

“I have mentioned before that I was too scared of what you were making me feel and that subconscious thoughts about what had happened to me as a child were making me reject you. And I will never forgive myself for that. It hurt you far more than I ever realized or intended, something that I did not process until I met Jubilee.”

“How did she make you realize that?” Bobby asked incredulously. “You just fucked her for a while.”

“Yes, I did,” John said. “And then you sang _Let You Go_ and didn't cave when I tried to get you back. You didn't cave, and didn't cave, and didn't cave, and then we got home from the tour and I sang you that song to let you know that I do love you, and you told me that you hate me.”

“I never should have said that to you.”

“No, you really should have. I needed to hear that. I was forced to reexamine everything in my life and part of that was coming to the conclusion that I had hurt you more than anything else by having a relationship with her. I honestly was refusing to believe that until the night I couldn't fuck her and I heard the pain in your sigh when I mentioned her name after I'd called you. That's when I knew,” John said, pausing for a moment. 

“Johnny...”

“Look, I completely understand why you pushed me away then. Why that pushed you away when other things that should have did not. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for causing you that pain. But Jubilee could never, ever have replaced you in my heart. Ever.”

“I really thought you were falling in love with her,” Bobby whispered. “And it cut me to the depths of my soul. I knew I had to end things for my own sanity and I knew that having to watch you with her for the rest of my life was going to be the worst kind of torture imaginable. I knew that there was never going to be anyone else for me. Ever. And that was when I realized how much you had destroyed me and everything I thought I knew about our relationship. Because we didn't really have a relationship, Johnny. It was all in my head.”

“We had a relationship, Bobby. It was not all in your head.”

“Tell me how we had a relationship then,” Bobby challenged. “Because I'd really like to hear about this relationship you think we had. We fucked every once and a while and that's it.”

John went to tell him he was wrong and then stopped. Things started racing through his head at a breakneck pace and he took a deep breath to try to focus on the heart of them. Everything they had done together before they were famous had stopped the moment they signed the recording contract because they needed to be careful. That meant there were no more dinners out or movies in the afternoon or just spending time together doing things that weren't band related. Their phone conversations had turned into little more than discussing band business or talking about songs from other artists they'd heard or worked on. When they did talk about other things, it was making plans to go to a club together, and while at the beginning that usually ended in going back to one of their places to fuck, it increasingly ended in John going home with a groupie instead of Bobby. Every aspect that had been a relationship was gone and John clearly seemed more interested in being a womanizing rock star than in being in a relationship with Bobby. 

“Fuck,” John eventually said. “You're right. We had reached a point where the relationship that we once had was completely gone and that's all my fault.”

“It's not all your fault,” Bobby started but John just shook his head. 

“No, it's really all my fault,” John said seriously. “Everything that tore us apart was my fault and it is time to take responsibility for that. I will never, ever be able to forgive myself for that. Ever.”

“Please don't do that to us.”

“What?”

“We are never going to have anything close to resembling a healthy relationship in the future if either one of us is always living in the past. You're going to have to forgive yourself, Johnny. I'm going to have to forgive myself too. It's the only way this is going to work.”

John sat there for a moment before nodding. “I will try.”

“Can you maybe work on it with Alison?” Bobby asked. “I need you to actually make it happen, not just try. I promise that I will do the same with Robert. This needs to happen.”

“Then I will,” John said. “I promise.”

They fell silent for a few moments before Bobby sighed loudly. “She was never a serious option? Even when you tried to continue it after the tour?”

John shook his head. “No, she wasn't. I knew she never would have put up with my bullshit long term and I didn't want long term anyway. What I really wanted from her was companionship, friendship. And yes, that included sex, but what about my life at that moment didn't involve sex? I connected with Jubilee in a way that I had never connected with a woman before and I didn't know how to be in any kind of relationship, friendship or romantic, that didn't involve sex. The band and those that surround us are different. They're family and have been for a very, very long time. Other than the family, almost every other relationship that I've had for longer than I can remember has included fucking at least once, including my massive, massive mistake with Madrox all those years ago. 

“I just simply did not know of any other way to do things, which comes from my fucked up childhood thanks to that monster. Because of him, I never let anyone close to me until I met you and Scott and Peter and we started up the band. I never had friends before you guys, Bobby. There is no one in my life from before Columbia and even the people that I knew at Columbia are no longer a part of my life. For years now, it's been my family, the band and its diaspora, and groupies, and the groupies were all about sex. I became obsessed with sex, particularly with women, because if I could just fuck everything away then maybe, maybe I might end up normal someday. All it did was fuck me up worse.”

Bobby thought about that for a moment and realized that John was telling the truth. “You isolated yourself to the band and therefore a very close circle of people that you trusted, but you still didn't actually trust anyone with any real depth or confide in any of us about your life except for Kitty, and that was why it always had to be crisis level before you'd talk to her. Why sometimes I have to force things out of you when you're trying to say something important.”

“Yes,” John said softly. “And you can probably understand why I have trust issues.”

“But you trusted me?”

“I do trust you, Bobby. I always have.”

“Am I the only person you actually trust then?”

John sat there for a moment before nodding. “Yes. You know me better and more intimately than anyone else on the planet. And I'm learning to trust Jubilee too. I know that her presence in my life is probably going to always be a problem for you, but she's teaching me how to be an actual friend to someone. Teaching me that I am capable of relationships without sex involved.”

Bobby reached out and pulled John into a kiss, deepening it as soon as John let him. When he pulled back, he smiled at him and ran a hand down John's face. “I am so glad that you trust me. And I'm glad that you're learning to trust her too. She really is a lovely person and, after I got her to stop constantly apologizing to me for what happened with you, we had a long talk about a lot of things and I came away understanding why you want her in your life. So yes, it's probably going to take me a while, but I promise you, having Jubilee in your life is not going to be a problem. Especially if she's helping you so much.”

John gave him a shaky smile. “Really?”

“Yes,” Bobby said, kissing him again. “I love you, Johnny, and I want to do whatever I can to help you heal. If she is part of that, then she is part of that and I will appreciate her help, especially after this conversation. Because I really did think you were falling in love with her.”

“Never,” John whispered. “It's you, Drake. It's always been and always will be you.”

Bobby grinned at him and stood up, reaching for John's hand and pulling him up too. “Come on, I think we need to fuck now.”

John laughed as they started walking towards his bedroom. “Are we just going to fuck after every one of these conversations? Because that's what we've been doing.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. I'm just curious.”

“We have months of sex to make up for, Johnny. We're going to fuck as much as we can,” Bobby said, walking a few more steps before stopping and turning towards him. “By the way, I forgive you.”

John stood there and blinked as Bobby started walking again. “What?”

“You heard me!” Bobby called out as he rounded a corner.

John stood there for a minute trying to process what Bobby had just said, shaking himself from his thoughts when Bobby yelled. “I don't know what you're just standing there for, Johnny. If you don't get in here soon, I'm just going to jerk off and fall asleep.”

John grinned and started walking again. “Despite how fucking gorgeous you look when you get yourself off, I'm not about to let that happen, Drake. Not after I've been forgiven.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

**********

“Thanks for coming to the party. Everyone else came up with bullshit reasons not to come.” Kitty looked over to where Marie and Piotr were talking across the room and reached for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. “And I'm glad they're getting along.”

“They've always gotten along,” Remy pointed out, sliding his glass over to her so she could top it off. “And we're not ones to turn down a party.”

“I know they've always gotten along, it's just...” Kitty trailed off and slid Remy's drink back to him. “I'm glad that the band has been so welcoming to him because I know that you all haven't exactly been thrilled with my choice of men before.”

“Well, Piotr is about ten gazillion times better than any of the assholes you dated after we got you away from Warren. And he's ten gazillion times better than Warren too.”

“There isn't a number that quantifies how much better than Warren he is. He is infinitely better than Warren.” Kitty took a long sip of her drink before dropping her voice. “We're talking about getting married once the divorce is final.”

“That's great, Kitty. I'm really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Remy. I'm just worried we're going to drift apart before that's possible. You should hear the things that the bitch wants from him.”

“Why the fuck would you drift apart? You two are practically inseparable when you're both in the same place.”

“Exactly. And now we're going on tour for two years.” Kitty drained her drink and reached for the bottle again. “That's a really long time away from him and I'm really upset about it, especially since Colossus is going to get a long break after this U.S. tour they're about to go on is over. If we had gotten an actual break then we would have had a long time to spend together, but no, we're going to tour the fucking world.”

“He can fly in for visits, Kitty. And there will be breaks,” Remy said, sliding his glass over for her to top it off again. “You will see him.”

“I know, it's just...when I'm with him, everything is right in the world. I crave that.”

“I understand that,” Remy said, murmuring thanks when Kitty slid his glass back to him. “That's how I feel about Marie. I really don't know how to go a day without seeing her anymore. I'm going to be lost when she has to fly back here for this Douglas Ramsey nonsense.”

Kitty smiled at him. “I'm so glad that you found each other again. You've been happier and more creative ever since, and that's made you an even better member of the band.”

“That's ridiculous, Kitty.”

“No, it's not. You could never have written the songs that ended up on _Masters In Japanese_ if she wasn't in your life again. You've been more energized and more creative, and that's even been noticed by the critics,” Kitty said.

“The critics are crazy sometimes and see things that aren't really there, and you know that.”

“They were right about this.”

“No, they weren't.”

“You were getting tired of being in the band, Remy. And we all knew it,” Kitty said softly. “We had started to prepare what we were going to say to convince you to stay in the band when you came to tell us you were going to quit.”

“I was never going to quit the band,” Remy said firmly. 

Kitty just gave him a look. “Do not lie to me, LeBeau.”

“I'm being serious. I was not going to quit the band,” Remy said, sighing. “Look, I admit that I was tired. And my idea was to get all of you on board with forcing the label to give us a long break when we got back from that tour. But I enjoyed that tour so much that it changed my mind.”

“And that was because of Marie.”

“No,” Remy started, but Kitty just gave him a look again. “Alright, fine. It was because of Marie.”

“That's not a bad thing. It made us all so happy to see you like that again,” Kitty said. “But now I'm worried that this is going to happen to me because I'm going to be away from Piotr for so long. I'm afraid I'm going to start resenting the tour and the band because of it.”

“We're going to have a lot of time off,” Remy pointed out. “I'm sure he'll fly in a lot too.”

“That isn't enough to alleviate my fears.”

“Then do something about it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Erik has been asking Bobby to give him opinions on possible opening acts. Bobby told him to ask the rest of us too. Suggest Colossus and beg Erik to make it happen. He might actually be happier to have Piotr on tour with you then there being a gazillion headlines about your separation and the inevitable 'are they still together' pieces that would make his head explode.”

Kitty thought about that for a moment. “That's actually a brilliant idea.”

“Of course it is. I came up with it,” Remy said, polishing off his drink and waving off Kitty when she reached for the bottle. “I can't have anymore. I'm supposed to be driving home.”

“Bullshit. You're both staying here tonight and that's not up for discussion,” Kitty said. “I'm not about to let you get yourselves hurt. Or caught for a DUI. Erik would kill you and me about that.”

Remy leaned over and brushed a kiss along the top of Kitty's head. “Thanks, KitKat.”

“Love you, LeBeau,” Kitty said, walking across the kitchen to grab her phone. 

She came back typing away and Remy gave her a confused look. “What are you doing?”

“I'm asking Erik about Colossus,” Kitty said, finishing the text and setting the phone down. “So, how are the wedding plans going?”

“I honestly have no idea. I think they're going well but Marie isn't really telling me much. She's handling the whole thing with Jubilee and Theresa.”

“She's not asking for your input on anything?”

“Not really, and I kind of like it this way,” Remy said, laughing. “Seriously though, we agreed on certain things before the engagement was announced and Marie has told me that she's being true to that. So I'm not worried about things and I'm not asking questions. If my input is needed, then I will give it.”

“Do not let Peter know how little you're helping. I think he'll fucking lose it because of how much Crystal involved him.”

Remy laughed again. “Oh, trust me, Peter is knowing nothing about this. I don't want to be screamed at for ten minutes.”

“I think it might be more like twenty,” Kitty laughed. “Trust me.”

“You might just be right about that,” Remy said, reaching for the bottle. “If we're staying here, then I'm going to enjoy myself.”

“Good boy,” Kitty said, laughing at the look on his face. “Oh, come on.”

“Sometimes, Kitty, I don't know what to do with you,” Remy said as he poured himself a drink.

“You love me and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do. Now, tell me more about why Callisto is here. I thought you hated her.”


	36. Chapter 36

John opened up his door and Bobby walked in, guitar case in hand. “Bobby? I thought we were going to the studio separately?”

“I have to play you something,” Bobby said, walking into the sitting room. “Come listen.”

John closed the door when he saw a particularly bright flashbulb, shaking his head. “They followed you all the way to the fucking door? I really can't wait till we're done with these fucking snaps.”

“One of them slipped into the building behind me. And I don't think they're ever going to leave us alone, so you might as well get used to it,” Bobby said. “Come listen.”

“Did you write another song? Because I think you've written about six million songs in the last month.”

“Fifty-six!” Bobby called out. “Just come listen!”

John walked into the room to see Bobby already had the guitar out and was tuning it. “Fifty-six? Last I knew it was thirty-something.”

“Sit down, shut up, and listen,” Bobby said.

“Bobby, honestly, can't this wait until we're at the studio with the band?”

“Will you please just do what I asked?” Bobby said, looking up at John.

John took one glance at the look in Bobby's eyes before realizing that this was serious. “Alright.”

Bobby took a deep breath as John sat down in one of the armchairs. “I think I wrote the lead single for the album, but I need to know what you think of it before I play it for the band because I don't know if I should play it for the band.”

“Why wouldn't you want to play it for the band?” John asked, but Bobby just started to play.

_Sitting on the roof watching the stars_  
_Tripping over my old guitars_  
_Every second with you feels right_  
_Even if you don't always stay the night_  
_But those days are changing_  
_And darling so are we_  
_This game that we've been playing_  
_Is less of a mystery_  
_Laying there watching you sleep_  
_Wondering if you dream about me_  
_Seeing that smile that I live for_  
_Watching you laugh here with me_  
_All I can think about is our love_  
_And how it was all worth it_  
_Baby, you're worth it_  
_Sometimes I catch myself looking at you_  
_And I wonder how it is you're mine_  
_Despite everything we've been through_  
_I still think it every time_  
_It hasn't always been easy_  
_And it hasn't always been fun_  
_Yet being in this place we are now_  
_Makes absolutely everything worthwhile_  
_Laying there watching you sleep_  
_Wondering if you dream about me_  
_Seeing that smile that I live for_  
_Watching you laugh here with me_  
_All I can think about is our love_  
_And how it was all worth it_  
_Baby, you're worth it_  
_When I think about the rest of my life_  
_What I want is you by my side_  
_And after a lot of time on the fence_  
_I now believe that's what you want too_  
_Laying there watching you sleep_  
_Wondering if you dream about me_  
_Seeing that smile that I live for_  
_Watching you laugh here with me_  
_All I can think about is our love_  
_And how it was all worth it_  
_Baby, you're worth it_  
_You'll always be worth it_

Bobby finished playing and set the guitar to the side. “Do you see what I mean now?”

John wasn't sure he could find his voice, so he just got up and walked to the sofa, sitting down next to Bobby and pulling him into a deep kiss. Bobby kissed him back eagerly and John was smiling when they finally broke apart. “It was absolutely beautiful, Bobby. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Bobby murmured before John kissed him again. “I just don't know if I should play it for the band.”

“Why wouldn't you want to play that for the band?” John asked. “It's wonderful. You should totally let the band record it.”

“Really?” Bobby asked, his voice entirely too shaky and vulnerable for John's liking.

“What is this really about, Bobby? Because this is about more than letting the band record it.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “I'm afraid that it's too personal and that it'll just make people go digging for even more when it comes to us. They'll realize that there were a lot of problems between us for a really long time and that we're talking about forever now, and I just...I'm terrified of letting us record it, but the second I wrote it, I knew it was the lead single if I let us record it.”

“I completely understand your worry,” John said after a moment. “But I think you should let the band record it anyway.”

“You think?”

“They're already starting to figure it all out, Bobby. I don't know how, but they are. There's been stuff in the papers and magazines lately that you know has been stuff that no one but us should have known.”

“I'm still trying to figure out how that's possible,” Bobby mumbled.

“You and me both because we know we're not their sources.” 

Bobby sat there for a moment before groaning. “My brother is a lousy motherfucker.”

“Meaning?” John asked, confused.

“Meaning I just remembered what else was in that box with the photos,” Bobby murmured, burying his head in his hands. “I used to write out my thoughts about how you treated me in a journal, I guess you'd call it. I just had to get that shit out of my head and I couldn't talk to anyone about it and...fuck, there's a lot of stuff in that, Johnny. There's a lot of stuff in a lot of journals. There isn't just one.”

John silently cursed Ronny Drake for probably the ten billionth time in the past month before reaching out and pulling Bobby's hands from his face. “Bobby.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, motherfuck, fuck.”

“Bobby, look at me.”

“This is so bad,” Bobby said quietly. “This is so, so bad.”

“Drake!” John exclaimed. “Look at me.”

Bobby glanced up and John reached out, cupping his cheek and gently rubbing his thumb over the soft skin under Bobby's eye. “This is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. Yes, there is going to be a bunch of stuff that never should have been public out there, but there's nothing we can do about that now.”

“We can deny the fuck out of it,” Bobby said meekly. “Deny the fuck out of all of it.”

“We're far, far beyond the point where denials would work and you know it,” John said softly. “So one way to combat this is to let people know that we've worked through all of that by recording the song.”

Bobby laughed. “Trying to get us back on track?”

“Well, we are going to have to leave for the studio in,” John paused and looked over at the clock, “ten minutes. I'm sure you're going to want an answer to your question by then.”

“Johnny,” Bobby said, taking a deep breath. “I really am terrified of letting the band record this.”

“I know you are. I can tell. But I still think you should.”

“It's going to let the band know things that I wish they wouldn't.”

“There is nothing in that song that the band doesn't already know and if you think about it, you'll realize that you already knew that. They knew there were problems between us for fucking years, Bobby.”

“They don't know about the forever part.”

“They're not stupid either.”

Bobby took another deep breath. “You really think I should let us record it?”

“Yes, babe, I do,” John said, pulling Bobby into a kiss. “I promise you, I would have told you no if I thought it was a bad idea. But I don't think it's a bad idea.”

Bobby sat there for a moment before nodding. “Then it'll be the first one I play for everyone.”

John broke out into a grin. “They're going to love it. It's gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said, smiling. “Most of my songs about you turn out that way.”

“They shouldn't.”

“Yes, they really should,” Bobby said, glancing over at the clock. “We should leave now if we want to get there on time. You know that the snaps are going to slow us down.”

“Good point,” John said, standing up. “Put the guitar away, I'll grab my stuff, and then we'll go.”

**********

“I noticed something in one of the papers today and I thought I'd bring it up,” Sebastian said, reaching into the stack of papers in front of him and pulling out a page from the _Post_. “There's another article about Remy from Belladonna, nothing that we weren't expecting. But there's a line in it that caught my eye and I highlighted it so you didn't have to read the entire article.”

Marie took the paper from Sebastian and rolled her eyes at the headline, wondering why the fact that the band skipped out on classes at Columbia was news, before bringing her gaze to the highlighted line. She read it once, twice, three, four times before she allowed herself to process what the line said. “She works at the Ramsey Corporation.”

“Apparently,” Sebastian said. “I really don't know what to say about that.”

“Doug is behind all of this bullshit,” Marie said, dropping the paper to the table and shaking her head. “I can't believe the lengths this fucking lunatic will go to. I don't know how he knew about Belladonna.”

“I do,” came Remy's voice, and he dropped a magazine down onto the table the moment he walked into the room. “Interview with Doug's father that my mother read. She told me to immediately let you all know about it so I grabbed a copy on my way home from the studio.”

“What does an interview with Philip have to do with Belladonna?” Marie asked, reaching for the magazine.

“There's a passage in it where he talks about his incredible, unbelievably capable assistant Belladonna Boudreaux,” Remy said, dropping down into a chair. “That's her.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means they're going to try to discredit the fuck out of me and the band,” Remy said, running his hands over his face. “I wasn't exactly the best boyfriend in the world. We had legendary fights. And she knew about Bobby and John as soon as it started. She told me that it was obvious that their friendship was headed towards that and she was surprised they waited that long to act on it.”

Sebastian sighed loudly and reached for his phone. “I've got to warn Emma. It's her job to look after the two of them. And you're telling me everything that might be coming.”

“Yes, what kind of things are you expecting to end up in the papers?” Marie asked, looking over at Remy. “Because I know you haven't told me everything about her.”

“She was a very jealous girlfriend. Always thought whenever I was talking to another woman about anything that meant I was cheating on her. Even when it came to Kitty. That's what most of the fights were about. Just the pettiest bullshit imaginable, in my opinion. But I'd almost guarantee that the next headline is about how I used to cheat on her constantly so she wouldn't be surprised if I was doing that to you with groupies left and right. Maybe even about how Kitty and I are cheating on you and Piotr with each other.”

“I must admit, Remy, I now understand why Emma constantly refers to you all as a nightmare,” Sebastian said, putting his phone down and running his hands over his face. “We've got seven of you to deal with.”

“Scott and Peter barely make headlines so it's not that bad.”

“Then you must have paid no attention to the front of the _Post_ when you were at whatever newsstand you bought that magazine from. There's some woman named Madelyne Pryor all over the cover of it claiming Scott's having an affair with her and is the father of her three-year-old son.”

Remy's jaw dropped. “What?”

“Scott is denying it but his wife is furious,” Sebastian said. “And that's all I know. Emma got busy with some bullshit about Sean and Moira and had to go. I've got to deal with the rumors about Peter and Crystal getting divorced too.”

“Regretting going to work for Erik instead of me?” Marie asked.

“No, I'm not,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “I still get to take care of things for you while also helping Emma out and therefore I know I made the right decision. But fuck if you all aren't fucking absurd to deal with. Not even your father had so much bullshit to work on.”

“I can apologize for that till the end of time and it wouldn't be enough,” Remy said. “But you have my apologies nonetheless.”

“Thank you, Remy,” Sebastian said, taking a deep breath. “Are you seriously fucking telling me that the next headline could be about you and Kitty cheating on Marie and Piotr with each other?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “I have to go plan damage control with Emma. I will be calling later and you better fucking answer that phone call, Marie. This shit is officially important nonsense.”

“We will, Sebastian. Don't worry,” Marie said, smiling at him as he stood up. “Let me walk you out.”

“No need for that. Just brainstorm about what Belladonna and Doug could do next. We need to be prepared for anything now.”

Remy turned to Marie as Sebastian left the room, and he reached out to grasp her hand. “I'm so sorry about this.”

“Not your fault,” Marie murmured. “This is more of Doug's fucking bullshit.”

“I need to go call Scott,” Remy said, squeezing her hand. “I need to know exactly how close he got with Madelyne and I need to know now.”

Marie's expression turned curious. “You've heard of her?”

“I know her,” Remy said. “Sebastian wouldn't know this yet, especially if Emma was too busy to tell him, but Madelyne was our assistant before Darwin was. I'm not sure if that's made it into the article or not. I suppose one of us should go pick it up.”

“I'll have Jubilee and Theresa grab it on the way over here. We shouldn't be seen buying that,” Marie said, reaching for her phone. “So you think that this could possibly be true.”

“Scott was pretty wild before he met Jean. And if Madelyne says he's the father of her three-year-old son, then the timeline would match up to around,” Remy paused to do some math in his head. “It would match up to around a few months after he and Jean started dating. And I'm sure Jean has done that math too. I'd almost guarantee the affair part isn't happening now though. Scott loves Jean too much to do that.”

“But he did it at the beginning of their relationship?”

“As I said, Scott was pretty wild. It's entirely possible.”

“Fuck,” Marie muttered under her breath, finishing her message and setting the phone down. “I honestly don't know what to say about that. I feel so bad for Jean.”

“I feel terrible for her too,” Remy said, pushing his chair back. “I'll let you know what Scott says.”

“I'm going to try to call Jean before Jubes and Theresa get here. See how she's doing, offer to let her stay here if she wants away from Scott for a couple of nights. If that's alright with you.”

“Perfectly fine with me,” Remy said. “We'll find somewhere for Rachel to sleep too, even if we have to go out and buy something.”

“That would just start rumors about us having a kid.”

“Who cares.”

“Sebastian would.”

“Sebastian can fuck off.”

“Erik would kill us.”

“Erik can fuck off too.”

Marie laughed as Remy walked away. “Your parents would kill us!”

Remy paused in the doorway. “My father can fuck off. But my mother would be furious, so we'll have someone go buy something for Rachel if necessary.”

“I'm sure Theresa would have no problem doing that,” Marie said. “Now go call Scott. I'll let you know what Jean says.”

“Sounds good.”


	37. Chapter 37

The atmosphere in the studio was tense. Everyone was upset with Scott, even Storm, because he wasn't concentrating on what they needed to be doing. Finally, Peter snapped, asking Storm to turn off the microphones so they could have some band only time. When Storm gave them the thumbs up, Peter swung around and glared at Scott. “Get your fucking head together, Summers.”

“I can't,” Scott murmured. “Not when this bullshit is out there.”

“Scott, we can't focus on a studio session if your head is in the clouds,” Kitty said. “We need to get this album done. The sooner we get it done, the longer the break we get before we head out on this tour.”

“She wants a divorce,” Scott said softly. “She won't even let me explain what's happening. I don't even know where she is at the moment.”

“She's at my house,” Remy said. “Marie and I offered to let her and Rachel stay with us for a while. If you want, you can come home with me after the session and talk to her. We can take care of Rachel for a while.”

“She won't listen.”

“You don't know that,” Sean said. “I used to think Moira wouldn't listen either, but eventually it happened. It's been a week and a half since that shit with Madelyne was on the front page, man. Jean will listen to you if she loves you, and we all know that she loves you.”

Scott sat there for a moment before screaming and throwing his drumsticks across the room. “The fucking bitch is trying to ruin my life. He's not my fucking kid and she fucking knows it.”

“So there's no mathematical way that he's your son?” John asked. “Because if there is, he might be.”

Scott buried his head in his hands and screamed again. “Fuck. Why the fuck does this have to be happening?”

Bobby stood up and walked over to the drum kit, crouching down next to Scott. “Scotty, it's us. You've got to tell us. We need to know what's going to be happening because this will affect the entire band. I know you don't want to, but it's better to get the truth out there than it is to let us find out by reading it in the papers.”

Scott turned his head and stared at Bobby for a moment before nodding. “Yes, it's a possibility. Jean is going to kill me, my parents are going to be furious, and fuck, Alex and Lorna are showing up tomorrow and Alex is probably going to beat the shit out of me.”

“Oh, Scott,” Kitty sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I honestly don't know what to say to that.”

“I do,” John said. “You're a fucking moron.”

“Like you're one to talk?” Scott threw back at him. “Fuck off, John.”

“Hey, at least he knew about it,” John countered back. “I never hid anything like that from Bobby.”

“This pissing contest is going to get us nowhere,” Bobby interrupted. “It doesn't matter who did what. What matters now is figuring out what to do about it.”

“That's my job,” came Emma's voice, and they all turned to see her and Sebastian walk into the room. “Erik wants us to kill you all right now, but that seems a bit too easy on you.”

“What Emma is trying to say is that there are a lot of fires to put out,” Sebastian said, smiling at her when she turned to him. “What? I think a little good cop, bad cop can work.”

Emma just shook her head and sighed. “Are all of you fucking paying attention? I only want to have to say all this bullshit once.”

Bobby stood up and walked back to his position, reaching out and tangling his fingers together with John's. “I believe we are, Emma.”

“We're starting with Scott,” Sebastian said. “Madelyne Pryor's lawyer has already been in touch with Charles to get a monetary settlement out of you, we presume, but Charles thinks you should find out if this kid is yours before you do anything. Charles is going to work with you on two different plans, one for if he is your kid and another for if he isn't. In the meantime, we are staying tight-lipped except for a very strongly worded denial that you'll need to look over before we issue it.”

“This is really the only way to deal with this,” Emma said. “And I know that you're furious and I know this won't help you with Jean at all, but this is the best we can do on this end of things.”

Scott nodded after a moment. “If that's what everyone thinks should happen, then that's what is going to happen.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, turning to Sean. “You and Moira are a motherfucking nightmare, you know that? You get her to stop wearing that goddamn ring and I mean fucking now. I am sick and tired of having to deal with engagement rumors just because she likes wearing the fucking thing. You've both sworn to me that this isn't true, so she's got to fucking stop.”

“I, um,” Sean started, swallowing hard. “I gave her that ring and we've been talking about the significance of it. I'm afraid of what would happen if I told her to stop wearing it.”

“Fuck me,” Emma said, shaking her head. “Are you not listening to what I'm saying?”

“I am, I am,” Sean exclaimed. “But I don't want her to stop wearing it if we decide it is an engagement ring.”

“Then get your fucking acts together and decide if it is one before I start denying the fuck out of this,” Emma said sternly. “If I don't have an answer out of you in forty-eight hours, I'm going to start putting out denials. Is that clear?”

“I don't know that we can figure that out in forty-eight hours, Emma.”

“Then I'm denying the fuck out of it until you do,” Emma said. “Because I cannot deal with all these engagement rumors.”

“That's fine,” Sean said. “I'll ask Moira about the ring and let you know. But you, like, you won't be first on the list.”

“I better be fucking second then.”

“Moving on to Remy and Marie,” Sebastian said before another word could be said. “You guys have a wedding date yet?”

“Next Saturday, two o'clock, at Marie's old apartment,” Remy said, turning to look at all of the band. “I'm sorry if that's pretty short notice, but we only just got word from the photographer that he could do it that day last night, and it was more important to start putting plans into motion than it was to call everyone.”

“It's fine,” Kitty said, smiling at him. “Piotr and I will gladly be there.”

“We all will,” Bobby said, glancing around. “I don't care if John and I have to drag Scott there ourselves. We'll all be there.”

“Absolutely,” Sean said. “I'll try to make sure Moira's there too but that I can't guarantee.”

“Definitely,” Peter agreed. “And I apologize now for the fact that Crystal won't be able to attend. I'm not even sure I know what country she's in at the moment, but she's still off filming that huge blockbuster she got the gig for.”

“It's fine, Peter,” Remy said, smiling.

“Bobby's right,” John said when Scott said nothing. “We'll drag Scott there if we have to.”

“Thanks, guys,” Remy said, turning back to face Sebastian and Emma. “Is that all?”

“I'm glad it's soon because the sooner we get the news that you're married out, the fewer people will believe this bullshit from Doug and Belladonna,” Sebastian said. “The story that you and Kitty are cheating on Marie and Piotr with each other has finally hit the front page of the _Post_ and it's important that you are seen with Marie and Kitty is seen with Piotr to start to deflect this bullshit and let the public know that it's not true.”

“I can do that,” Kitty said. “Piotr and I were going out to dinner and then a play over on Broadway tonight anyway.”

“Please try your hardest not to make any headlines on Broadway like you did the last time,” Emma said quickly. “The last thing we need to be dealing with is more bullshit about you guys.”

“I will try my best,” Kitty said. “But I make no promises.”

“I know,” Emma said, taking a deep breath. “Peter, we've got to do something about the fact that people think you and Crystal are getting a divorce.”

“Well, Crystal is god knows where right now. I think it's Italy, actually. So I'm not sure how we're going to do that,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Believe me, I'd do anything to make these rumors go away. My mother has been freaking out about them, and Crystal's parents aren't too pleased either. Her sister calls me every single day to make sure that I'm not doing something stupid too. It's like Medusa has suddenly decided not to trust me.”

“Yes, well, Medusa said something to the press outside your house when she left it yesterday, so you need to get her to not do that again,” Emma said firmly. “I cannot be dealing with rogue family members too.”

Peter groaned. “What did she say?”

“She said that she hopes you and Crystal can work things out, which is so not helpful when it comes to denying the fuck out of anything happening. So get her to fucking stop already.”

“I'll get Crystal on it,” Peter said, shaking his head. “She'll get her to stop immediately. Crystal's got, like, magical powers when it comes to her family. They will do anything she wants them to do.”

“Then you better call her the second we leave and get that taken care of,” Emma said, turning her attention to John and Bobby. “And you two. Fuck, don't even get me started on you two.”

“I'm sorry, Emma, Sebastian, but there's nothing we can do about it at this point.”

“I had an idea about that if you're willing,” Sebastian said, glancing over at Emma before taking a deep breath. “You could go to the police about your brother stealing that stuff from your house. It's not breaking and entering, but it's robbery.”

Bobby sat there so John spoke first. “You really think that's an option?”

“I think it's at least worth a conversation with an officer. If you can get him for robbery, then you guys will be able to get your stuff back, preferably before too much more of it ends up in the papers.”

“It would have to be used as evidence first, surely,” John pointed out.

“True, but at least while it's being held as evidence it won't be used by Bobby's brother to continue feeding information to the public through whoever his contacts at all these different papers and magazines are. We obviously can't stop what's already out there or what is imminently coming, but we might be able to stop stuff from coming in the future,” Emma said, looking at Bobby. “You're being awfully quiet over there, Bobby.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “I just never thought it would come to the point where you'd be asking me to have my brother arrested.”

“It's a good idea,” John murmured, and Bobby looked over at him. “And it's probably the only way we can stop everything that's in those journals from becoming public knowledge. You and I both know there's a lot of stuff that hasn't.”

“I'll be willing to at least have a conversation with an officer,” Bobby said after a minute. “But it is entirely up to me if I then want to press charges or not.”

“That's fine, Drake,” John said, turning back to Sebastian and Emma. “Isn't it?”

Sebastian nodded while Emma sighed. “I just want to help you guys. And Sebastian and I can't help you unless we know everything that's possibly going to come out, and I know that you're not comfortable with telling us all of that. You shouldn't have to tell us all of that. That stuff should be personal and kept between the two of you. I don't want to know it, but if it comes to it, we might have to.”

“I know,” Bobby murmured. “I just...I know. We'll figure this out. Something has to be done to stop this from happening.”

“Okay, guys, we'll let you get back to what you were doing now,” Sebastian said, reaching for Emma's hand. “And hopefully the next time we'll see you is at Remy and Marie's wedding next weekend.”

Emma smiled. “I can't wait to see her dress and win some money.”

“There's no way you're winning this bet, Emma!” Sean called out. “No way!”

Emma laughed as they started walking towards the door. “We'll see about that!”

Remy just shook his head as the door shut behind them. “You all and this ridiculous bet. You're all going to be wrong, I hope you realize that.”

“Yeah, yeah, we'll see,” Peter said, turning back to Scott. “So, man, what are you going to do? Because you've got to talk to Jean before that wedding.”

Scott sat there staring at the drum in front of him for a moment before turning to Remy. “You'll really let me come over today?”

“As far as I'm concerned, this studio session is shot and we can go there now,” Remy said. “There's no way we can all concentrate on this song now.”

“You're right about that,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “My mind is gone.”

John squeezed his hand tightly. “We're going to get this all figured out, okay Drake? Somehow we'll get this stopped.”

“Alright, that's it,” Peter said, standing up. “We're definitely done now. If Bobby can't concentrate then there's really no reason for us to be here. Bobby's the one who does everything during studio work.”

“That's not true,” Bobby said meekly.

“Yes, it is,” everyone else said at the same time, making Bobby laugh. 

“Okay, fine, we're done for the day.”

“I'll go explain it to Storm,” Peter said. “The rest of you fuckers get out of here.”

Remy turned to Kitty as they all stood up, giving her a soft smile. “I'm so sorry about this shit that's hit the papers. It's all Belladonna and Doug's fault.”

“It's okay, Remy. We both know that it isn't true and we'll let the world know through our actions that it isn't true,” Kitty said, smiling back. “But let's not do any shopping trips together for a while, okay? That would only fuel the fire. I will gladly help you shop online or give opinions on what you go out to buy yourself.”

“I would very much appreciate that,” Remy said as they walked towards the door. “I'm hopeless at buying her gifts.”

“No, you're not,” Kitty laughed. “You just need a woman to tell you you're getting it right.”

They walked out of the booth and Kitty grabbed her stuff from where it was stashed in the corner. “See you tomorrow, boys.”

Remy called out a goodbye before snatching up his coat and turning to Scott. “You ready to go?”

“No,” Scott said honestly. “But I have to face this at some point, right?”

“Yes, you do because Marie and I don't want Jean and Rachel living with us for the rest of our lives.”

Scott tried to laugh but it sounded hollow. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to her?”

“She knows you were wild and promiscuous before you met her, and she knows that continued for a while after you met her, right?”

Scott sighed as they walked out of the studio. “We've had conversations about it. I think this is different though.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Madelyne wasn't a groupie. She wasn't a one-night thing. She was someone I knew, someone Jean knew.”

Remy shook his head as they walked out of the building. “So you're telling me this thing with Madelyne was more than one night?”

“No, no,” Scott said as they approached Remy's car. “It was one night. I just don't think Jean is going to believe me when I say that.”

“You never know.”

“No, I don't, but I'm just going into it with that in my head.”

“Don't do that,” Remy said as they got in the car. “Be confident.”

“I wish I could be,” Scott said as Remy started the car. “I just promised her a long time ago that I would never cheat on her, and I know she thinks that is what's happened.”

“So you need to tell her that it isn't what happened. And I'll back you up on that.”

Scott looked over at him. “What?”

“Madelyne's whole claim is that you've been having this affair with her while we've been on the road, right? That she's been following us from city to city and you've been having hookups backstage and you've been sneaking off to hotels instead of partying with the band. I know that shit's not true. She's been nowhere near the band for almost four years now. I saw with my own eyes that you were in the dressing room for every backstage party on the tours, and I highly doubt that you would go sneaking off to another part of the hotel for a rendezvous with her.”

Scott took a deep breath. “You'd really do that for me?”

“Any of us would do that for you,” Remy said as he merged out into traffic. “We just didn't say that in the studio.”

“Why?”

“Because you had to realize that you need to face her on your own. We had all talked about it already.”

Scott laughed. “Of course you had.”

“It's important that you face this, you know,” Remy said, shaking his head. “And Marie is expecting us at the house because I wasn't coming home without you.”

“You all really did plan this, didn't you?”

“We needed your side of the story first, but yeah, we did.”

Scott settled back into the seat. “Thank you.”

“It's nothing.”

“It's something. Something that I don't deserve.”

“Scott,” Remy said seriously. “Yes, you made some mistakes at the beginning of your relationship, but Jean knows deep down that you wouldn't be doing it now. And I don't care if it takes all of us to tell her that you're not fucking around on her with Madelyne. You'll get this straightened out.”

Scott took a deep breath. “I hope so.”

“You will,” Remy repeated. “Trust in that.”

“I'll try.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am one hundred million percent certain that I'm writing into a void and that absolutely no one is reading this, so if you for some reason happen to be reading this madness if you could please comment or leave a kudos I would really appreciate it.

“I want to believe him,” Jean said, twirling her cup around in her hands, “but I just don't know that I can.”

Marie took a long sip of her coffee before looking over at where Remy was playing with Rachel. “I understand why you feel that way. I really do. But Remy has pretty much told you that this affair stuff is bullshit.”

“I know he has,” Jean sighed. “I really just wish that I could trust all of this. Trust everything. But the fact that it's even a possibility that this kid is his is kind of too much for me at the moment.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Because you can't stay here forever.”

Jean immediately became apologetic. “I am so sorry, Marie. Rachel and I have just crashed in on you for much longer than the couple of days that you said I could stay for and I just...I'll find somewhere else to go. I promise.”

“No one is kicking you out,” Marie said seriously. “You and Rachel can stay here for as long as you want. I'd just think that you'd want to go home at some point. I mean, that's your home.”

“I know it is, but there are so many happy memories there that I'm afraid I'll walk in the door and immediately forget why I'm so angry with him.”

“Maybe you need to.”

“What?”

“Right now you're so focused on what is happening that you're refusing to even think about everything that you'd be giving up should you go through with the divorce you've threatened Scott with. And if he really isn't having an affair, because her story doesn't match up with what Remy and I experienced with Scott on those tours at all and I know the rest of the band can back him up on that as well, you'd be giving all of that up for almost no reason. I'm not saying that there is no reason because if I found out that Remy had fathered a child four months after we started dating, I'd be furious too. But do you really want Rachel to grow up split between two homes? I was and it absolutely sucked.”

“So was I,” Jean said softly. “We promised each other before we had Rachel that we weren't going to let that possibility happen. And yet here we are.”

“Why are you so reluctant to believe what Remy and I are telling you about this supposed affair?”

“Because he used to do that,” Jean said simply. “That's how I know that this kid might actually be his son. That's the sort of shit that Scott used to do. And then suddenly he stopped. I think his brother put him in his place about what he was doing and how it was affecting me, and then things between us got really great. And they've stayed really great. But there is a part of me that can't help but wonder if it's true because it used to be true.”

“It's not true, Jean,” Remy said, walking over to the table and sitting down, bouncing Rachel in his arms. “I would not hesitate to tell you if it was. You deserve better than that and you always have.”

“I know you wouldn't lie to me about this, Remy. You never did before,” Jean said, taking a long drink. “He seemed so sincere when he came over here. So willing to do whatever it took to get me to forgive him. He was never like that before. Wanting forgiveness, but not like that.”

“He is sincere. You should see him at the studio. He can barely concentrate because he's so upset over all of this. Our progress on the album has ground to a halt because we can't get a song finished since Scott can't concentrate. Once he gets his concentration back, we're going to have like six songs to record the drums for because we're recording around him at the moment instead of with him.”

Jean stared at Remy over the top of her coffee cup for a moment. “You really think he's telling me the truth?”

“I really think he's telling you the truth,” Remy confirmed. “And things might still be rough for a while, especially if Madelyne's son turns out to be his kid, but Jean, don't do this over something he didn't do.”

Jean quickly drained her cup and stood up. “Do you mind watching her while I go call him?”

“Not at all,” Marie said, smiling at her. “Good luck.”

“I'm not the one who needs luck,” Jean said as she walked out of the room. 

Marie turned to Remy and sighed. “I really hope they resolve this soon.”

“Me too,” Remy said. “It's not that I mind her and Rachel being here, but I kind of mind her and Rachel being here. This is going on two weeks now.”

“I know but we're being good friends,” Marie said, taking a long sip of her coffee. “Jean told me she doesn't really have any friends here in the city that she would trust like this.”

“Scott said she spends so much time in her studio that she doesn't really get out and meet people. She's never had a lot of friends here.”

“I was thinking of asking her to paint us something for the house,” Marie said, leaning back in her chair. “There needs to be some art on the walls and I thought it would be nice to have an original Jean Grey piece among them.”

Remy broke out into a grin. “I think that's a wonderful idea. What would you have her paint?”

“Something rock and roll,” Marie said, laughing. “She's done some great paintings that I know are based off you all. Maybe she could do one based upon you and we could put it up in your music room.”

“I would love that,” Remy said, looking down when Rachel grabbed onto his shirt. “What? You like my shirt?”

Rachel giggled and pulled at the shirt, and Marie smiled at the sight before her. “You're good with kids, you know?”

“I don't know about that.”

“You've been able to calm her down better than Jean can sometimes, and I know that because Jean has said as much,” Marie pointed out. “You're good with kids.”

Remy watched Rachel for a moment before turning his attention to Marie. “So are you. Don't think I haven't noticed how much you've taken to her.”

“Well, we've already made promises that we're going to be better parents than our own, so I guess this is a good start,” Marie said, taking another sip. “But we're not having kids for a while.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“It better be,” Marie said seriously. “You're not the one who would be pregnant.”

“So what are you thinking then, time-wise?”

“I think we will revisit this subject once the world tour is over.”

“Revisit?”

“Revisit.”

Remy smiled at her. “I can be okay with that. Just so long as we actually revisit it.”

“We will, don't worry,” Marie said, smiling back. “I want to be a mother just as much as I want you to be a father. We're just definitely not ready for it.”

“I think you're right about that.”

“Of course I am. I'm always right.”

Remy laughed. “No, you most definitely are not.”

“You really want to say that to me?” 

“Yes, I do. I know how you'd hold that over my head.”

Marie just grinned at him. “Well, alright then.”

**********

John quietly let himself into Bobby's house, happy that for once there weren't flashbulbs going off behind him. He knew that it was only because it was almost two a.m. but it was still nice. Bobby had been supposed to come over to his place that night, but he'd never shown up nor was he answering his phone, so John was worried. After locking the door behind him, he walked into the main space to realize all the lights were off. “Bobby?”

When Bobby didn't answer, John's worry grew, and he started walking through the house, looking in every room he passed to try and find him. Eventually, he made his way upstairs and started looking in the spare bedrooms, his heart jumping into his throat every time he found a room empty. John paused outside the last room to check, silently telling himself that Bobby had to be in that room or he was going to call Erik, and when he opened the door, he felt himself finally breathe.

Bobby was on the floor by the closet, guitar still in his lap. Pieces of paper were spread out all over the floor around him, and there were a couple of empty bottles of whiskey there too. John crouched down next to him and carefully set the guitar to the side, and Bobby's eyes cracked open just as John carefully picked him up. “Johnny?”

“Shh, babe, let's get you on the bed, okay?” John said quietly, carrying Bobby over to the bed. He quickly stripped off his jacket and then reached for Bobby's shirt, pulling it over his head and giving him a soft smile. “Lay back and let me get these pants off?”

Bobby did as asked and let a smile cross his face. “Thought it was my job to undress us.”

“This is not leading to sex, Drake,” John said seriously. “You're way too drunk for that.”

“Not drunk.”

“Bobby, there's two empty bottles of whiskey in here. You're drunk.”

“There are?” Bobby rolled his head to the side until he saw them. “Oh.”

“In the morning, I want to know what happened tonight,” John said seriously. “You were supposed to come over for dinner and then you never did. If Sean hadn't come over to ask me for advice about Moira, I would have been here a lot sooner.”

“Called the cops,” Bobby said as his eyes closed. “Told 'em to press charges.”

“Oh, Drake, why didn't you wait till I was with you to do that?” John asked softly, pulling Bobby's pants off. “Come on, lay down properly.”

“Only if you do too,” Bobby said as he shifted around.

John just nodded and quickly stripped down to his boxers, climbing onto the bed next to him. “I would have been here sooner. You just had to call me and I would have dropped everything and come over here.”

“Supposed to spend time apart,” Bobby mumbled. “Not be co-dependent.”

“I know that's what Robert and Alison have told us, even though I think it's bullshit. But Bobby, this is a big deal and you needed me here.”

“Needed to write more. Not sure where the alcohol came from.”

“I'm guessing your liquor cabinet,” John said, biting back a laugh. “How many songs did you write?”

“I don't know,” Bobby said honestly. “All kind of blurs together after a while. Might not have even gotten one finished.”

“We'll figure that out in the morning then.”

“Johnny, I'm getting my own brother arrested.”

“I know. That's a good thing.”

“How is that a good thing?”

“Well, it'll hopefully stop more of this bullshit from ending up in the papers and magazines.”

Bobby sighed. “It's not bullshit. It's true. It happened. All of it.”

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know it did.”

“I should want nothing to do with you. Should hate you.”

“You do hate me,” John pointed out. “You've told me that.”

“Loving you hurts. Always has, from the very first day until now. But it hurts for different reasons.”

John leaned over and kissed Bobby softly. “I think you should get some sleep, babe.”

“No. Wanna tell you why it hurts.”

John rolled onto his side and tangled their fingers together. “Okay. Why does it hurt?”

“Used to think I couldn't have this. Used to think the thought of you feeling the same way was fucking insanity. Was convinced that this was something I was just going to have to get over. Then Providence happened. And Providence was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah,” John said, grinning at the memory. “It really was.”

“Only had sex a few times before that. Was far more acquainted with my hand. That's why I had lube that night. Not because I planned on jumping you or anything.”

John let out a small laugh. “I always wondered why you had that lube. Never did ask.”

“Knew I wanted that so badly. Knew you'd never want to bottom either. That's why I said I would. Just to make sure that it would actually happen.”

John sucked in a deep breath. “That was probably a good thing because if it had been the other way around, it never would have happened. The lousy motherfucker liked to...yeah, it wouldn't have happened.”

“All worked out in the end. Turns out I quite like having your dick up my ass,” Bobby laughed drunkenly. “Still say you should try it sometime.”

“I can't put my dick up my own ass, Bobby.”

Bobby slapped at him. “You know what I mean!”

John laughed. “I know, I know.”

“Feels incredible, you know. You start thrusting into my prostate and I feel like I've entered a state of ultimate pleasure, where I am literally nothing but pleasure. Best spot in my entire body. Wish you could experience it.”

“Well, things are pretty goddamn pleasurable on my end too, you know? I wouldn't be doing this if they weren't.”

Bobby looked over at him. “You wouldn't be with me if there wasn't pleasure?”

“Bobby, I love you. I really, really do. But if sex with you wasn't good, we never would have reached this point. And you know that.”

“Good point,” Bobby mumbled. “But loving you still hurts, no matter how great sex is. You know why?”

“I have absolutely no idea how you're this talkative after consuming two bottles of whiskey. Absolutely no idea.”

Bobby slapped at him again. “Trying to be serious.”

“Sorry, babe. No, I don't know why it hurts.”

“Ever since Providence, it's like you've tried not to remember. Pretended that you don't remember. You said stuff that night, Johnny, stuff that still rattles around in my head at certain moments. Stuff I'm not even sure you know you said.”

“What did I say?” John asked softly.

Bobby laid there for a while and John thought that he'd fallen asleep. But just as John was closing his eyes to try and get some sleep of his own, Bobby spoke. “You told me that you loved me.”

John's eyes snapped open. “What?”

“You laid in bed with me that night after we'd had sex and told me that you loved me. That this could be forever. I honestly thought that I'd made it up after a while, that there was no way you possibly could have felt that way about me then, but after you finally sang me that song you wrote, I realized that it really was true. You really did say all of that.”

John swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “I said all of that to you that night and then I...”

“And then you turned into the lousiest motherfucker on the planet,” Bobby said, his voice clear. “I thought you had lied to me. Thought I really had made it all up. But then you started talking to me about our future on the nights that we did end up in bed together, and I wanted so desperately to believe you, but I couldn't. Because believing you would hurt too much. Even now it hurts too much.”

“I deserve that.”

“No, you don't,” Bobby said seriously. “Let me finish.”

John rolled onto his back. “Alright.”

“It hurts now because we could have had all of that by now. We could have had that life already. But whatever happened to you after that night in Providence derailed all of that. And I understand now, I really do. I'm so glad that you told me about that motherfucking bastard and what he did to you because I used to think it was all me. But we're here now and we're going through all of this and talking about the future in terms that actually seem real and it just hurts knowing that we could have already been here. We could have already had this.”

“Bobby,” John said softly. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. This isn't about getting you to apologize.”

“Then what is this about?”

“It's about making sure you know that things aren't completely better. They're fuckloads better, but they're not completely better. And it's stupid, it's ridiculously stupid, but sometimes I just want my Johnny from Providence back. And it breaks my heart to know that I can never have that.”

“Oh, Bobby,” John murmured, sliding closer to him and pulling Bobby into his arms. “I wish I could be him for you. I really do.”

“Why'd you have to change?” Bobby whispered as hot tears burned his eyes. “Why couldn't we just have been happy?”

Bobby buried his face in John's neck and let the tears flow, and John just laid there holding him, silently wondering when he'd turned into such a lousy motherfucker. When he'd become okay with hurting Bobby that much.

Whenever it was, John knew he didn't deserve to have him now. Not even close.


	39. Chapter 39

Remy woke up to find Marie still in bed next to him, and he glanced over at the clock. “Marie?”

“Hm?”

“I thought you were getting up early to get ready for the hearing.”

“I was.”

“But now you're not?”

“Charles called this morning and said there's not going to be a hearing today, so I decided not to get up.”

Remy shifted around so he was facing her. “What do you mean there's not going to be a hearing today?”

“I mean that Doug didn't do his psych evaluation or his drug test, and the judge ordered that if he didn't do them in the next week then he was going to throw him in jail for contempt,” Marie said, a smile on her face. “I really want that to happen. Can that please happen?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Marie said, smiling. “Charles said that if that happens then the Ramseys can't come to bail him out either. He'll be in jail until he submits to the court orders.”

“Well, that's wonderful news. What are you going to spend today doing then?”

“I'm going over to the penthouse with Jubilee and Theresa. I need to get everything in order over there before things start getting delivered because we've all agreed that I'm staying away from there after today until the day of the wedding. We don't want anyone to start putting things together.”

“That's smart,” Remy said, leaning over to kiss her. “I cannot wait to see it all.”

“There's going to be tons of flowers, just so you know,” Marie said, laughing. “Had to make a proper altar somehow now that it's being professionally photographed for a magazine.”

“I thought we were getting married in front of that big window.”

“We are but there will now be a massive archway of flowers in front of it. Trust me, it's going to look amazing.”

“I do trust you,” Remy said, smiling. “I trust you to tear this place apart after the wedding too.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “We're going to have rooms painted and some new furniture brought in. There is no tearing down of anything.”

“Yet.”

“No, Remy. I'm not one of those maniacal people who need to tear down walls. I quite like the layout of this house just the way it is.”

“Okay, good, because I didn't want you to start some project that wouldn't be finished by the time the tour rolls around,” Remy said, yawning. “I don't want to leave you behind for a second of the tour.”

“You're not going to. But I am going to have to come back here for these fucking court dates.”

“I know,” Remy murmured. “Believe me, I know. I wish I could be there for you when that happens, but I'll be halfway around the world.”

“It'll be alright,” Marie said, reaching for his hand and tangling their fingers together. “Charles is preparing to submit all the documentation I've given him as evidence. He said it's a really solid case that cops won't be able to dismiss.”

“Cops?”

“Charles said there's enough there that I can get Doug arrested for domestic violence. I have dates, I have places, I have photographs, and I have medical records. So once he's got everything in order, we're going to go down to a police station and file a formal complaint. The cops will then go through the evidence and decide whether or not to file charges. Charles said there's more than enough for that though.”

Remy broke out into a grin. “That's wonderful.”

“I know it is,” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “It's also terrifying.”

“I know, Marie, I know.” Remy slid across the bed and pulled her into his arms, smiling when she settled her head onto his shoulder. “No matter what happens, I'm going to be here for you. And I'm going to be the one who gets to spend the rest of my life with you, not him. Once the ink is dry on that marriage license, you and I are going to be husband and wife, and Douglas Ramsey isn't going to be able to get you to do what he wants. You're doing what you want and that is all that matters.”

“I honestly cannot wait for the day when Doug realizes that he's lost,” Marie said softly. “I cannot wait until all of this is over.”

“It will be soon. Charles will make sure of that.”

“I just don't feel like Doug will give up.”

“Well, legally, he's not going to have a claim to you, so that'll help.”

“He doesn't legally have a claim to me right now and that's not stopping him.”

“Good point,” Remy said, reaching over to his bedside table when his phone started ringing. “Who the fuck is calling this early? It's barely eight.”

Marie yawned as Remy glanced at the phone. “Who is it?”

“My mother,” Remy said, declining the call and tossing the phone onto the bed. “And I have no desire to speak to her at the moment.”

Marie gave him a look. “Remy.”

“I told you months ago that if I cut my father out of my life then my mother wouldn't speak to me either,” Remy said, closing his eyes. “So she's threatening to do that and I might have snapped and uninvited them both from the wedding.”

Marie shook her head as Remy's phone started to ring again, reaching for it and noticing it was Annabella. “I'm answering this.”

“Marie,” Remy started, but Marie just answered the phone.

“Annabella, how are you?”

Remy ran his hands over his face and motioned for Marie to put it on speaker phone, hearing his mother in mid-sentence once she did.

“...think that it's important that I be there, even if Jean-Luc isn't,” Annabella was saying. “And I'd like to explain that to my son, but he won't listen to me.”

“He won't listen to you because you aren't going to speak to him if he cuts Jean-Luc out of his life,” Marie said, putting a hand over Remy's mouth when he went to speak. “And honestly, Annabella, that's some seriously manipulative bullshit. Remy should be allowed to make choices about who he associates himself with and not have you threatening things like this. It's hard enough for him as it is.”

“Marie, I just want them to have a situation where they can speak to each other before this happens,” Annabella said. “I want Remy to sit down with his father and actually listen for once.”

“Do you think he hasn't been listening? Because he's heard every veiled insult, every show of disappointment, every hint of disapproval. He's already heard it all, Annabella. I don't blame him for not wanting to hear more.”

“Marie, I know that you mean well, but you're viewing this through the prism of my son and quite frankly, you don't know what you're talking about.”

“I'm just supposed to forget the way Jean-Luc treated me in Paris then? I know exactly how he feels about me and Remy and what is happening. I know he's not happy about any of this and that he never will be. And that is not through the prism of your son. That is from my own eyes.”

Annabella didn't say anything for a few moments and Remy went to say something but she spoke first. “I'm trying to keep my family together, Marie. And I know that my husband is making this extremely hard, and I know that you have every right to feel the way you do, and I know that it's easier to just cut him out of your lives than it is to try and fix things. But all I'm asking for is one chance. One face to face meeting. If Remy agrees to that, then we'll show up at the wedding and everything will be fine. If he doesn't, then neither of us are coming.”

Marie looked over at Remy and he sighed. “Mama, you know he's never going to change.”

“I know that's not likely,” Annabella said, dropping her voice low. “Remy, please. I know that this might not go well but I would like you to at least try. You have no idea how much time you might have left with him. I just want you to be sure that cutting him out of your life is the right thing to do.”

Marie looked over at Remy and saw the confusion on his face. “What do you mean about not knowing how much time he'll have left with him, Annabella?”

Annabella sighed into the phone. “He didn't want anyone to know. Not even you two. He wanted to just deal with this privately. I had to force the news out of him when doctor's bills started showing up.”

Remy sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“It's the same cancer your grandfather had,” Annabella said softly. “And we can't afford the treatment, so your father is just refusing it.”

“That is such fucking bullshit,” Remy exclaimed. “Why didn't you come to me and ask for help? I can pay for the treatment.”

“That is the way your father wanted it.”

“Is he home today?”

“Yes, he is. He's not well enough to work anymore.”

“Fucking hell,” Remy said, throwing back the bedsheets. “I'm coming over there now. And that is not up for discussion.”

“Remy, please don't come to yell at him.”

“I'm not going to,” Remy said seriously, standing up. “I am coming over there to talk some sense into him. I will see you soon, Mama.”

Remy walked into the en suite and Marie picked up the phone. “Annabella, is there anything we can do? Besides us paying for Jean-Luc's treatment?”

“If you are able to, coming over to talk to Jean-Luc would be nice,” Annabella said after a moment. “I'd like him to get to know you better and realize that you're a hundred trillion times better than Belladonna was or would have been.”

“Then I will be there with Remy shortly.”

“Thank you,” Annabella said softly. “For everything, Marie. You are a wonderful addition to my family and I cannot wait for you to be my daughter-in-law.”

“Well, I cannot wait for that either,” Marie said, swinging her legs out of the bed. “We'll be there soon.”

“I shall be expecting you. Talk to you then.”

Marie hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed, running a hand through her hair before standing up. 

The situation between Remy and his father just got considerably more complicated, and Marie had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

**********

Bobby blinked his eyes open and found John watching him. His head felt like it was full of cotton wool and he immediately knew he'd been really drunk the night before. “Fuck.”

“I imagine you feel like shit,” John said, smiling at him. “You drank two bottles of whiskey.”

“Two?” Bobby groaned, slowly flipping onto his back. “Fuck. The studio.”

“Don't worry, the studio session has already been canceled. Apparently, Scott is working things out with Jean and didn't want to interrupt that to have to go to the studio.”

“Thank Christ for that,” Bobby said, slinging an arm over his eyes.  “Why did we get so drunk?”

“You are the one who got drunk,” John said firmly. “I am the one who found you passed out at two a.m. because you didn't come over to my place like you were supposed to.”

Bobby thought about that for a moment and then groaned as the memories of the night before hit him hard. “Motherfucking hell.”

“Remember now?”

“Yes,” Bobby said, groaning again. “I am such a fucking idiot.”

“No, you did the right thing,” John said. “I just wish you would have waited until I was here to do it. I always knew that you were going to fall apart after you made that decision.”

“That's not what I'm an idiot about.”

“Then what is it?”

“What I said to you last night.”

John softened. “No, babe. Don't think you're an idiot for that. I needed to hear that.”

“No, you really didn't.”

“Bobby, if I'm still hurting you, I needed to know that.”

Bobby slowly turned his head towards John and peered at him from beneath his arm. “I never should have told you that I hate you and I never should have told you that loving you hurts, and I definitely never should have told you about Providence.”

“I needed to know those things,” John said again. “We're never going to get anywhere unless you tell me these things. I don't care if it has to happen at two a.m. after two bottles of whiskey. I need to hear this stuff.”

Bobby sucked in a deep breath and tried to ignore the pain in his head. “Do you remember the first song we ever danced to?”

John gave him a confused look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just answer the question please.”

“Yes, I do,” John said softly. “ _While My Guitar Gently Weeps_ by the Beatles. There's a thing about us and George Harrison songs apparently. Why?”

“When we were...when things were bad, I'd think that I'd be doing okay. That without you around I was doing just fine. And then I'd hear that song, and everything would just...” Bobby trailed off and sighed. “Shit.”

John reached out and grabbed Bobby's hand, squeezing it gently. “Tell me.”

Bobby took a couple of deep breaths before closing his eyes. “I hear that song and everything just hurts so badly because I relive the memories. The way you kept stepping on my foot and how your arms slid around my waist and your hands ran up my back. Your breath against my neck because we were so close to each other. And it hurts so much because that's the moment I realized I loved you. Before it was just this infatuation, this thought that you were the most amazing man I'd ever met, but that moment, that was the first moment that I looked at you and thought I love you.”

“Oh, Bobby,” John breathed out but Bobby continued before John could say anything. 

“We'd known each other for maybe three months and I know we were drunk. I know that we passed it off as drunk shenanigans the next day, laughed about it with the band. But that moment is so incredibly special to me and it hurts. And it shouldn't hurt, Johnny. None of this should hurt. But it all does. All of it. And I don't know if we're ever going to get to a place where it doesn't. I want to be able to look back on moments like that and not think about how much pain followed them.”

John slid closer to Bobby and gently moved his arm away from his head. “Look at me.”

“That's kind of difficult at the moment. It's really bright in here.”

“I know it is. But would you please just look at me for a moment?”

Bobby laid there for a few moments before opening his eyes. He immediately saw the regret and the pain in John's eyes, and he lifted a hand to caress the side of his face. “I'm not trying to hurt you.”

“You're not, babe. I hurt myself. I did all of that to you and so that means I hurt myself,” John said, leaning forward and brushing their lips together. “I am so, so sorry, Bobby. I am the biggest, lousiest, most awful motherfucker that has ever walked the face of the Earth. I will never, ever forgive myself for how badly I've hurt you. Ever. I know you want me to so that neither of us is always living in the past, but I really don't think I can do that.”

“I need you to,” Bobby said softly. “Seeing you like this, with all this pain, it just breaks my heart.”

“I deserve it though. I deserve this pain. I deserve to never be forgiven for what I did.”

“You might. You really might. And I can completely understand why you think you do. But I forgave you, Johnny.”

“For Jubilee.”

“For everything,” Bobby murmured. “I forgive you for everything.”

John stared at him, dumbfounded. “Babe,” he eventually said. “That's madness.”

“Maybe, but it's what's happened,” Bobby said, pulling John into a deep kiss. “I love you, Johnny, and if I spend the rest of our lives hanging onto anger over what you did we will never get anywhere. I don't want to live like that. So I talked to Robert about it for a very long time, and I worked through it. I forgive you, Johnny because I want to. Maybe not because you've earned it, but because I want to. I want to look at you and feel love, not anger.”

“Bobby,” John said quietly. “I don't deserve this. I just don't.”

“I've come to the conclusion after many therapy sessions that I still love you like I used to. Intense and profound. And that's because subconsciously I know that you're still that guy from Providence. And yeah, you'll never be him again, but I'll never be Bobby from Providence either. That moment in time is just that, a moment in time. It's something we can never recreate and something that we can never change. It's this perfect memory that I will treasure until the end of my days. And yes, looking back on it hurts, but the more I concentrate on you and the here and now, the less it's going to hurt. Because we got here, Johnny. It may not be the way either of us wanted to, but we got here.”

John leaned his head against Bobby's chest and Bobby's hand tangled itself in his hair. They stayed like that for a long time, and when John finally lifted his head, there were tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don't deserve this. Fuck, I don't deserve you. I don't know how you're not just kicking me out.”

“Because I love you,” Bobby said softly. “I love you more than anything. You're my world. The band and the music is great, and I wouldn't know how to live without it, but life without you...that might actually kill me. It's why I'd always take you back. It's why I let you treat me the way that you did. I cannot live without you, Johnny, no matter how much I have tried to over the years.”

“Bobby,” John started, but Bobby just shook his head.

“I mean it,” he groaned. “And I really shouldn't move my head like that.”

John let out a small laugh. “You shouldn't drink two bottles of whiskey in one night, either.”

“You are definitely right about that,” Bobby said, letting his eyes close. “You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Johnny, whether looking at our journey to this point hurts or not.”

“I'm sorry,” John whispered. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and go get me some aspirin, will you? I don't think I can move for a while.”

John leaned forward and kissed Bobby deeply. “You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I love you so much.”

Bobby felt John climb off the bed and took a deep breath, thinking to himself that maybe they actually were going to get there in the end. He didn't know what he was going to do if they didn't.


	40. Chapter 40

“Are you sure that we're not supposed to be a little more dressed up than this?” John asked. “Because we don't look dressed for a wedding at all.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “Yes, we have dressed appropriately.”

“We wore suits at Peter's wedding.”

“Because we were instructed to. We were not instructed to wear suits to this wedding,” Bobby said, reaching for the t-shirt he'd laid out on the bed. 

“So we were instructed to look like slobs in comparison then?” John asked, causing Bobby to spin around and glare at him.

“We were instructed to look like rock stars, so that is what we're doing.”

“Rock stars?”

“Rock stars,” Bobby said, pulling the t-shirt over his head. “Marie said she wanted us to look like we would on stage.”

“Why do I have a feeling that this wedding is going to be completely different than the way I had pictured it in my head?” John asked as he walked up behind Bobby.

“Because I'm sure that it is,” Bobby said, shuddering when John's hands slid across his sides. “Johnny, stop.”

“What?” John asked teasingly. “I thought you liked my hands on your skin.”

“I do,” Bobby stuttered as John's fingers slipped underneath the top of his jeans. “But now is not an appropriate time for this.”

“We've got time,” John murmured, leaning in to nuzzle Bobby's neck. “And we haven't done it pressed up against your closet yet.”

“Fucking hell,” Bobby said, spinning around and pushing John away. “After the wedding, we are definitely revisiting that plan. But AFTER the wedding.”

“Come on, Bobby,” John said, pulling him close. “We've got plenty of time.”

“We are in the middle of getting ready.”

“When has that ever stopped us before?”

“We are not going to be late for Remy and Marie's wedding. Absolutely not.”

“We won't be,” John said, kissing him hard. “Come on. You know you want to.”

“God, how I want to,” Bobby said, pushing his way out of John's embrace. “But it's not going to happen. It's not.”

John took one look at the steely determination in Bobby's eyes before giving up. “Fine. But the first thing we're doing when we get back here is fucking up against your closet.” 

“I am in complete agreement with that,” Bobby said, turning back to the mirror and finishing putting his t-shirt on. “It's crazy to think about the fact that Remy is getting married, isn't it?”

“Kind of,” John said, sitting down on the bed. “He was pretty wild there right before Marie came back into his life.”

Bobby took a deep breath before looking at John through the mirror. “Is that something you were ever interested in?”

“Is what?”

“Getting married,” Bobby said quietly, diverting his eyes. “Were you ever interested in getting married?”

John stared at him for a few moments. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?” he eventually said.

“I just...ever since the law changed...I kind of thought that maybe it might be a possibility someday,” Bobby said, reaching up to straighten up his hair. “If you're not interested then that's fine.”

John stared at him in disbelief. “You want to marry me?”

“Not, like, this second. We still have way too much to work out,” Bobby murmured.

“But you want to marry me.”

“I have for a very long time,” Bobby breathed out, letting his eyes meet John's again. “I've just always had this fantasy scenario in my head that if it reached this point where our families knew and everything is public that maybe we would at least have a conversation about it. But if you're not interested then that's fine. It's not some sort of deal breaker.”

John walked over to Bobby and spun him around, crushing their lips together. Bobby sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around John's neck, pulling him closer. They stayed locked like that until John needed to breathe, and he pulled back and stared at Bobby for a few moments. “I love you, Bobby.”

“I love you too, Johnny,” Bobby said softly.

“I just, um, I can't contemplate this marriage stuff right now,” John said honestly. 

“It's okay,” Bobby murmured. “I told you, it's fine.”

“But only because I've honestly never thought about it,” John continued. “Not because it's something I'm immediately saying I wouldn't be interested in. I'll need to think about it some before I can answer that part. I just seriously have never thought about it.”

“Not even with a woman?”

“You know damn well that there was never going to be a woman to even think about that with.”

“Really?” Bobby's voice was entirely too vulnerable and John pulled him into another kiss.

“It's you, Drake. It's always been you. And I will say that as many times as necessary before you believe it.”

Bobby buried his face in John's neck and John carefully ran his hands down Bobby's back, trying to soothe him. When Bobby eventually pulled back, John could instantly tell that Bobby felt a little better. “Alright now?”

Bobby just glanced at the clock. “We've got to go or we're never going to get there on time.”

“Bobby.”

Bobby sighed heavily “I'm fine. I was fine before and I'm fine now.”

“Except that you're not.”

“No, I really am,” Bobby said seriously. “That conversation actually went a lot better than I thought it was going to.”

“How did you think it was going to go?” John asked as Bobby worked his way out of their embrace. 

“Did you get your leather jacket?” Bobby asked, walking across the room and grabbing his. “Because we really do need to leave.”

“I am not going anywhere until you answer my question. How did you think this conversation was going to go?”

Bobby sighed heavily. “I thought you might freak the fuck out, to be perfectly honest.”

“Why?”

“Because I just asked you about marriage, John!” Bobby exclaimed. “And this time last year you were off fucking Jubilee somewhere!”

John took a deep breath. “Do you want me to apologize again? Because I will.”

“No. I don't need another apology. I'm just saying there's quite a difference between where we were a year ago and where we are now, and sometimes when it comes to moments like these I still question if I'm going to say something that's going to make you walk away and go back to your old ways. That's all.”

John reached out and grabbed Bobby's wrist as he tried to walk past. “Bobby.”

“John, seriously, we need to go or we're going to be late.”

“Bobby.”

Bobby turned towards John and got a glance at the look in his eyes. “I'm sorry I hurt you.”

“And I have told you, I need to be hurt,” John said, swallowing hard. “Yes, a year ago I was being a dick. And yes, that never should have happened. But I would much rather be here with you like this for the rest of my life than ever go back to that. Even if things never get better than this. I promise.”

Bobby stood there for a moment before nodding. “Thank you. Now we really have to leave or Marie is going to kill us.”

John leaned in and kissed him quickly. “Then let's go.”

**********

“Alright, everyone is here,” Jubilee said, walking into the room. “Theresa is trying to get them all to sit down. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go get Remy and then sit down yourself,” Marie said, checking her appearance in the mirror one more time. “And to tell me that I look good.”

“You look amazing,” Jubilee said, walking over to Marie and giving her a hug. “But why am I getting Remy?”

“Remy and I decided that we're walking down the aisle together,” Marie said. “So I will need him before I go out there.”

“This is the most unconventional wedding in the history of the world, I just hope that you know that.”

“Kind of the point,” Marie said, taking a deep breath. “Please go get Remy for me.”

“Okay,” Jubilee said, smiling at her. “I will see you after the wedding, Mrs. LeBeau.”

Marie turned back to the mirror as Jubilee walked out of the room, and a couple of minutes later, Remy came walking in. “Hello, Remy.”

Remy let out a low whistle. “You look amazing.”

Marie glanced down at the green dress she'd worn the night they reconnected and smiled before looking up at Remy. “And you look amazing yourself.”

Remy laughed and tugged on his leather jacket. “My father has already commented on how I don't look dressed for a wedding.”

“Forget about Jean-Luc for awhile,” Marie said seriously. “This day is just about you and me. I'm glad that he and Annabella are here though.”

“Me too. And I didn't think that I would be saying that a couple of days ago.”

“Still mad at him?”

“Going to be for a while,” Remy admitted. “But he came into the room to talk to me so that he could say that he'll allow me to pay for the treatment, so at least that's something.”

Marie broke out into a smile. “That's wonderful.”

“He called it a wedding present. I don't think he understands that I did this for him, he's not doing this for me.”

“Maybe it's a bit of both,” Marie said, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around Remy's waist. “Remy, we're about to get married.”

“I know we are,” Remy said, pulling her into a deeper embrace.

“Fourteen months ago, we were as far apart as you could possibly be and now here we are, about to become husband and wife,” Marie said softly. “And you know what?”

“What?”

“This is going to make everything worth it. Everything that I went through with Doug, everything that you went through with Belladonna, everything that we went through when we were apart and alone, and everything we've gone through since we found each other again. It was all leading to this, and despite the fact that it took some twists and turns that neither of us would have wanted, I think it's been leading to this since we were six.”

Remy laughed. “I don't know about that long.”

“We were brought into each other's lives for a reason,” Marie said, poking him in the side. “And I believe this is the reason.”

“Maybe you're right,” Remy said, brushing a kiss along her hair. “Maybe we've been headed to this moment since the day I got paint all over your dress.”

Marie chuckled. “I should have gotten mad at you for that. Instead, I just told you that I like red.”

“Then you took some of your green paint and wiped it down my shirt in retaliation. And I should have gotten mad about that, but instead, I just told you that I like green.”

“That was that. The moment our destiny was sealed,” Marie said, smiling. “And now we're here.”

“I love you, Marie,” Remy said softly. “And I am so happy that you're about to become my wife.”

“I love you too,” Marie said, tilting her head up to look at him.

“These last fourteen months have been the best days of my life. Every day with you is better than the previous one,” Remy said sincerely. “And yeah, we won't always look back at the ten years that proceed these fourteen months with the greatest of fondness, but you're right. It's all worth it. Everything has been worth it.”

Marie couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. “Sorry. You were being heartfelt. Please continue.”

“What was funny?” Remy asked. “I want to know.”

“I just had this wish to be there in person to see Doug's face when he finds out that I am legally yours. I am sure that they are fully expecting it to be months before we get married because who can plan a wedding this quickly.”

Remy laughed. “Oh, that would be a sight I would almost pay money to see.”

Marie took a deep breath. “Getting rid of Doug is going to be a wonderful side benefit of this day.”

“Yes, yes it is,” Remy agreed. “Hopefully he'll take Belladonna with him when he goes.”

“One can only hope,” Marie said, pulling back and heading over to the mirror again. “Do I look alright?”

“You look gorgeous.”

“It's just, there's like a photographer from _Vanity Fair_ here and everything has to look perfect. Everyone has to look perfect too, so I'm hoping that no one went against our dress code.”

“Don't worry about that,” Remy said, walking up behind her. “The band looks like they just walked off stage. So does Rasputin. Jean and Moira aren't dressed up any more than they would be at a concert. Jubilee and Theresa look like socialites. No one else that we invited is in any sort of fancy clothes, even Erik, who is always dressed in an expensive suit. I don't think I've ever seen him this dressed down before, actually.”

“Charles told me he'd make sure Erik didn't wear a suit,” Marie said, spinning around. “Things are going to be fine.”

“Things are going to be just fine,” Remy confirmed. “Everything is taken care of.”

“Right.”

“Ready?”

Marie shook her head. “I need another couple of minutes.”

“Okay,” Remy said, putting his hands on her waist. “But I really don't know why.”

“I don't either,” Marie admitted. “I just am terrified of walking out there and doing this all of the sudden.”

Remy gave her a soft smile. “All we have to do is go out there, walk down that aisle, say a few vows, and put some rings on each other's fingers. That's it.”

Marie nodded. “I know. Why is that so scary?”

“Marie,” Remy said, and her eyes met his. “We are in this together, remember? Going out there just means that there's a piece of paper at city hall that legalizes it. We could cancel this entire thing right now and that wouldn't change anything for me. The socialite and the rock star for the rest of our lives.”

Marie broke out into a grin. “The socialite and the rock star for the rest of our lives indeed.”

“Then let's go make it legal.”

Marie took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Hank poked his head through the door before they could say another word. “As the one who is marrying you, may I just suggest that you actually come out of the room so I can do so?”

Remy and Marie both laughed and Remy reached for Marie's hand. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Then we're right behind you, Hank.”

Hank turned and left, and then Remy started walking towards the door, Marie falling into step behind him. Once they were out in the hallway, Remy extended his arm and Marie slipped her hand through it, and they shared a smile before heading towards the main room. 

The socialite and the rock star, for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's that. As you can probably tell, I didn't really resolve what's going on with John and Bobby and I definitely didn't resolve what's going on with Doug and I really started some things towards the end that went absolutely nowhere. But this story was already _ridiculously_ long and hey, that's what sequels are for. So who wants to go on a world tour with the band? Coming soon. You know. If anyone's interested.


End file.
